Lifted Up
by Tomas the Betrayer
Summary: Sequel to 'Hammered Down'. Under the shadow of a heaven ruled by monsters, Rukia Kuchiki continues to fulfill her duties with new lives and hearts added to the mix. And above all, there is a mother's love.
1. Winter's End: Dashing Through the Snow

This dream is the worst.

"Rukia-chan, what _are_ you doing?"

The worst, because in it, I can't move. And it makes me sick when she looks back over her shoulder, all innocent and pure, to respond, "This is homework. They assign it in the modern schools nowadays."

"You don't say."

Wait for it. Here it comes. He's going to do it right… _now! _

Smile.

"Ah, but look at the little illustrations you made! They really do highlight your work, Rukia-chan."

Right there. It's in the way he smiles. The way he says her name. The way he _looks _at her. And she doesn't notice it. She can't see how dangerous he really is. Rukia just flushes and points proudly at her drawings. "This one I had to erase and redo three times to get it right. The arms wouldn't work, but I knew if I kept trying…"

I growl before I can think to stop. I've done this so many times, and each one comes as a surprise. It's because I can never quite rid myself of the hope that maybe for once it will be different. Maybe, like I thought at the time when this actually took place, they won't hear me. How hard is it to ignore someone in my situation? Happens regularly in my experience. So why not now? Just once let it be the same here. Whoever's running this show, I'm asking you to change it. Please.

_They_ don't hear me.

He does.

Not Rukia. Just him. He turns his head towards me. I can see his eyebrows lift in surprise, like he really had forgotten I was there. For a little bit we only stare at one another, and I want to stop, look away. So what if I lose the contest? This isn't anything worth getting childish over. There's something really bad in the works. If I look away, maybe he won't figure it out.

I just can't. If I do, it means I gave up. I didn't care about her enough, or more about myself. I won't do that. Not then, and not now. So instead I stare right back at him.

At first he's still confused, when out of nowhere it seems to hit him, and without warning… he smiles at me.

Rukia can't see. Her back is turned to him, and she's busy with more of her work. She doesn't see the way he looks right then. Evil. That smile is just plain evil. It's wicked, unpleasant, and it shows that he's figured me out. He's a predator. I know, and he knows that I know. He also knows that I'm not going to do anything about it. Because this guy can tell I'm afraid of him.

How could I not be? Before I met Rukia, there was nothing that scared me more than a shinigami. And that right there is 'death god' in spades. I've seen the face of Death itself. I remember how it looks when someone doesn't care at all if you live or die. This guy is the same. He'll kill me. But he'll laugh about it, that's the difference. He thinks it's funny. Like I'm a joke. Mocking me with his nasty, evil sneer. He's laughing on the inside. He loves it so much. Loves that I can't do anything to stop him.

As proof of this, he lifts his hand. I can only watch in renewed anguish and dread as he reaches for her. Rukia, still absorbed with scribbling away, doesn't take any notice of this. Me, I want to scream my head off, command him to get away or else! Not that it would do any good. Nobody sees what I see. I'm the observer, not a participant.

He never takes his eyes off me. Still smiling, letting me know what he's going to do. Don't you dare. He's about to touch her. I'm almost in tears. Don't you _dare…!_

"Rukia-chan…"

And he reaches past her to point at the paper.

"Think you forgot something on this problem."

"Hmm? Where?" She peers at the part he's referring to. It's so cute and so terrifyingly oblivious how her face scrunches up in concentration, then clears. "Ah! You're right! Why didn't I see that?"

"Oh, it's easy to miss what's right in front of you. Especially when it's small."

He says that while looking at me. Another insult. Telling me I'm not even worth noticing. I'm nothing. I don't count. And he's still laughing about it, damn him!

After he's done toying with me, he stands up. "Well, I think I'll get us all something to drink. Where do they keep the liquor hereabouts?"

Rukia chews her pencil, gazing abstractly at the equation to make sure there's nothing else she's overlooked. "I've never seen any, actually. The father doesn't seem to drink, regardless of the occasion."

"Perhaps he mistrusts any alcohol he doesn't brew personally. A wise precaution." Stretching his arms overhead, he yawns, boasting about himself with every movement. Another slight against me. "I'll just take whatever I can find. Be back soon."

"Try not to get lost in any mirrors," she advises.

"I make no promises." As he leaves, the bastard pats me on the head. This time I can't jerk away. "Take care of her now, little one." That sick, oily smirk stays right in place. I want to tear his head off. But I'm helpless.

Then he's gone, and it's just me and her, and I'm going to…

Wake up.

* * *

><p>Kon drifted awake. There was darkness all around him, and for a few terrifying seconds he felt as if something dangerous had followed him out of the dream. He could swear he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye.<p>

Mercifully it wasn't true. Being assured of that, the mod soul heaved a grateful sigh. He then subtly examined his surroundings. The girls were asleep in their beds. Kon himself was propped up on a dresser amidst all manner of sappy stuffed dolls and assorted critters. No matter how he pleaded, more often than not this was where he wound up spending his nights. It wasn't a bad deal, all things considered. Beats living on the street. Although he did often wonder if being homeless would prove half so undignified as this situation.

The window shades were closed, but something about the light still coming through caught Kon's attention. On further reflection he decided to take a closer look. With great care not to make too much noise the animated doll leapt to the floor. Catlike reflexes, he congratulated himself. He then crept towards the window.

One of the girls stirred restlessly in her sleep and Kon went still, prepared to play possum if necessary. Regardless of whichever it was there might be trouble. At the very least the bossy one would give him a tongue-lashing come the morning. Maybe even report him to the Dragon Lady when she came into work. The very thought had his stuffed knees trembling. Better to go through another bedroom tea party with all the other room mascots than endure _that_ again. To his relief the kid only settled in to make herself more comfortable before dropping back to sleep. Thanking his lucky stars, the lion plushie vaulted nimbly atop the windowsill. He parted the curtains a crack and peered outside.

All around, Karakura Town lay under a blanket of white snow.

Kon gazed upon this tranquil setting with a measure of wonder. There were tiny filigrees of frost crawling around the edges of the window. He examined them intently before turning his attention back to the city. The snow was still falling, big heavy flakes that spun round one another on their journey to the ground, each one adding ever so minutely to the perception of perfect harmony. Not a single car engine could be heard, no dog barking or any such thing. Overhead shone the stars against a backdrop of blue velvet night. Even at this hour a few warm yellow lights still burned from the windows of homes off in the distance. It was a winter wonderland.

This is what peaceful is like, Kon reflected. Falling snow. Nighttime. Little children tucked safely in bed. What could be wrong on a night like this?

As if waiting for that thought, the dream came back to the forefront of his mind. Kon silently cursed himself. He had completely forgotten about that, and now here it was, back again. Why couldn't he just be done with such things? This sedate environment wasn't just for show. Karakura had been practically a paradise for the last five months, spiritually speaking. Only a handful of Hollows adrift for the entire town, and those had been finished off in no time flat. What had once been a Mecca for soul-hungry ghouls was now more like the Garden of Eden. Everybody safe and happy, no worries, not a care in the world.

Not quite perfect, though. They were missing one thing.

His winter goddess.

"Wat're ya doin'?" a voice mumbled.

Kon almost panicked before recognition set in. He turned to find Karin Kurosaki standing beside him, blinking sleepily. Wearing a lively green pajama set, the spiritually sensitive youngster still managed to scowl at him despite having only just woken up.

In response Kon stepped to the side and opened the shade a crack. "Look."

The girl frowned but complied. She crossed to the window, and he saw her tired eyes widen. Karin gazed spellbound much as he had. "Whoa!" she whispered.

"Yup," the mod soul nodded. "Finally got some snow." Both kept their voices down so as not to wake Yuzu. Gently Karin crouched down, resting her chin on her arms. Kon sat beside her so that the two of them could watch the white stuff as it came down.

"This wasn't in the forecast," Karin sighed after a bit.

Kon shook his head. "Could be a sign."

"Of what?"

He hesitated to speak his heart, finally deciding that it wouldn't hurt. "Maybe she's coming back."

"Hmm." There was no need to ask who he meant. Karin's face didn't change at his pronouncement. The tomboy continued to gaze out the window. After a bit, though, her head sank down to bury in the crook of her arms. "I hope so. Ichi-nii's been kinda hard to live with lately."

_No kidding. I've met female dogs that were less bitchy than your brother. _However, her unofficial housemate chose not to express his opinion on the subject. Truth be told, Ichigo Kurosaki had been an absolute pain in the ass to live with for almost half a year. If he hadn't been a poster child for surly teenage behavior before, the carrot-headed beanpole was working it for all its worth now. You could barely get a civil word out of him, and the father Isshin had actually gone so far as to ban his son from helping out at the family clinic. Which only meant more time Kon had to spend in a hormonal warzone. And that resulted in the mod soul's nerves being rather frayed. His temper was close to snapping altogether. Hero of Soul Society or not, that kid was going to get his rude mouth smacked one of these days.

Of course, Kon knew exactly what Ichigo was going through. Their mutual love interest was far-removed, and there was no longer an easy means of reaching her. To make matters worse it didn't require any great stretch of the imagination to see something seriously wrong happening while they were separated. Not just the obvious stuff, like Hollow attacks, but the more insidious kind of mind-bending suspicions. Like what sort of guys was she meeting? Were her bosses being nice, and were any of them trying anything with her? Was that gloomy prick of a brother attempting to set his little sister up with some fat-assed nobleman? Yes, there were many awful predicaments their dear Nee-san could find herself in without her two most stalwart defenders there to champion her honor!

Outside the flakes continued to drift down. Despite winter being almost over, this was the first snowfall of the season. It was nice to see the world getting back to an acceptable pace. Perhaps this too was a sign that Kon would soon find his life restored to a more pleasurable equilibrium. It wouldn't take a lot. Just one voice, one vision of loveliness returning to grace him with her presence. Was that too much to ask?

Right then Karin gave a yawn and stood up. "Goin' back to bed," she declared before trundling over to her cot.

"G'night, kid," Kon whispered. She paused in the midst of snuggling under her covers and threw him a questioning look, to which he responded, "I'm going to watch a little longer. See you in the morning, 'kay?"

"'Kay." The girl yawned and flipped over on her side. "Sleep tight."

"Pleasant dreams."

Even as the words came out of his mouth, Kon felt a tightness in his throat. If he tried hard, he might be able to forget the source of his nighttime troubles. He watched the two girls peacefully abed. They were safe now, right? All the monsters were gone, dead or locked up far away where they couldn't hurt them anymore. That meant a nice long life for the survivors of that war, his loved ones and himself included.

Kon went back to watching his own private winter display. He tried telling himself it was just being this close to the glass that made him shiver. But even as the stuffed toy climbed back up the cabinet to his reserved spot, he couldn't banish the feeling of icy cold that had settled inside him.

Sleep did not come that night.

* * *

><p>"Ichi-nii, did you see?" Yuzu proclaimed in a delighted voice. "It <em>snowed!"<em>

Stumbling into the kitchen, Ichigo grumbled something unintelligible before flopping into his chair. Karin paused with a bite of egg halfway to her mouth to watch him. Her brother barely had his eyes open, yet she was certain that already their ridiculous parent had attempted to ambush him somewhere between the first floor landing and the kitchen. The sound of the altercation had hardly intruded on her breakfast nor did Yuzu pause in her cooking. Yet here their older brother was looking none the better for having that out of the way. Usually the daily sneak attack being thwarted meant he became a bit more relaxed. Instead Ichigo frowned with as much seething irritation as ever. He even seemed to regard the lovingly tendered breakfast Yuzu placed before him with a certain degree of animosity.

At last Karin couldn't take it anymore. She set the chopsticks down and stood up. Her twin glanced over with surprise. "Karin-chan, where are you going? The crepes are almost done!"

"I don't have an appetite," she responded. The sharp-eyed girl then sent a piercing glare at her overwrought elder which Ichigo failed to notice. He only desultorily picked up his bowl of soup and took a sip before setting to on his meal. Without even a single word of thanks for the person who made it!

"Ingrate," Karin muttered on her way out.

She heard him swivel around in his chair, but a half-formed retort died on his lips. Her jab had hit its mark. As she left Karin caught a faint sigh along with a mumbled, _"Itadekimasu."_

That was enough for now. Yuzu would be happy.

Karin trotted back to the living room. She passed by without comment where Isshin Kurosaki sagged against the floor, his head embedded in a wall. Her parent's effusive behavior remained undiminished by Ichigo's poor temper. One would think common sense might have an effect, but… no. And in spite of what their family went through back in the fall of last year, almost nothing had changed in terms of daily life. They went to school. They fought. They bickered. And when nobody was looking, they cherished one another. Because huge events in your life can either lead to earth-shattering changes or a simple appreciation for what you already have.

And what you didn't have.

"Morning, Mom," she whispered under her breath in front of Misaki's poster. More for her own sake than anyone else's.

When she turned around, a dark figure stood watching her.

"Good morning, Karin-chan."

She stiffened slightly, then relaxed. "Hey."

The person was wrapped in a gray overcoat with a scarf wound around their face. A faux-fur hat of Russian origin covered the head and kept their eyes lost in shadow. Snow lay on their shoulders, dripping down as that slender figure bent to place a pair of high-heeled leather boots by the entryway.

This done, the so-called Dragon Lady rose upright to gaze upon her small hostess. "Where may I find your father?"

Karin pointed.

"I see." The woman passed by while proceeding to unwind her scarf. Karin didn't stay to watch what had become an almost regular occurrence. Instead she headed upstairs to begin getting ready for school.

As she opened the door, a voice hissed. "PSST! Karin, is that you?"

The twelve-year-old sighed. "What would you do if it wasn't, Kon?"

"Uhhh…"

"Goofball." Maybe there was nothing inside Kon's fuzzy head except stuffing, but he didn't have to act that way. While she busied herself getting her homework put away, the animated plushie leapt down and padded over.

"Listen, kid, I need you to do something for me."

Last night's creative writing assignment had been about asking how your life would be different if you lived a hundred years ago. The question didn't make much sense. Wonder what the kids who haven't talked to centuries-old ghosts wrote? "What is it?"

"I want to go to school with you today!"

"_What?" _Karin rounded on him. "No way!"

"Listen, it's important!" Their live-in guard hopped up onto her book-bag. "I need to be outside today."

"I am not going to risk the other kids seeing me with a stuffed doll. I'd have to kick their asses to make them stop laughing!" She hesitated while shuffling up some math pages. "Why do you want to go anyway?"

"You know."

This gave her pause. Now Karin really studied the little lion toy. He had his paws crossed over his chest and wore a rather serious expression. Having gotten to know Kon pretty well in these last few months, she was used to deciphering his facial features. This was a side of the mod soul he didn't usually show around Ichigo, for the precise reason that her brother wouldn't take him seriously. But Karin had seen Kon at his best, so she did not discount his feelings so readily as her brother.

"Do you really think she's back?" the girl asked.

He gave his mane a forlorn shake. "I don't know. But if she is, I know we'll meet her at the school!"

"I'm in middle school, she wouldn't show up there. Why not tag along with Ichi-nii?"

Kon gave her a look that spoke volumes.

"Right. Stupid question." She then sighed. "All right, hop in."

"Sweet!" With that Kon proceeded to worm his way inside her backpack. About to close the top, he popped his head out and declared, "Don't worry, nobody'll even know I'm here!"

"_She'll _know."

A look of fear came over his rounded features as she closed the top and affixed the latch. Swinging her satchel up on one shoulder, Karin then headed out into the hall, passing Yuzu as she did.

"Karin-chan!" her sister exclaimed excitedly and rushed to catch up. "This is our chance!"

"To do what?" she drawled on her way towards the stairs.

"To find out where the Dragon Lady lives! If we follow her footprints in the snow, we'll see where she came from!"

Karin considered this. Yuzu was only mildly less terrified of their new help than Kon. And who could blame her? In spite of this she remained intrigued by the mysterious woman.

Always up 'til now, their father's new assistant had simply appeared at their door every morning without any warning. She didn't drive a car, and nobody dropped her off that the girls could tell. Nor did anyone pick her up when the day was done. At Yuzu's insistence the twins had attempted to tail her after she left, only the need to maintain a discrete distance from their target meant they always wound up losing sight of her. Even splitting up didn't seem to help. The Dragon Lady seemed to disappear simply by turning a corner. Speculation ran the gamut of her catching a bus to traveling beneath the streets by way of the sewer system.

Karin knew better, but didn't care to share her theories. She once suggested they simply ask the woman outright where she lived, and then had to spend five minutes consoling her hyperventilating sister.

Having retrieved her own already packed schoolbag, Yuzu stole along in her wake. "What if that woman really is a ghost, Karin-chan?"

"Pfft!" She blew out her breath in an attempt to make light of that suggestion. "Even ghosts are scared of her." That was a true statement. And it only made her discomfort all the more acute. The funny thing was, Yuzu had guessed right.

To be specific, the woman was a shinigami. A god of death, working in their clinic, doing their accounting and managing their inventory. For reasons no one cared to speculate on. Ichigo and Dad seemed to treat her presence as nothing out of the ordinary. But Karin had learned to recognize a certain sense that lingered around these people. It was something like the same eerie feeling she got passing by a cemetery. Like there were unseen eyes staring at her. Or a hand was hovering near her face just on the verge of touching. She had met more than a few shinigami wearing human guise after all, and even lived in the same house as one for several weeks. Months, if her suspicions regarding the matter of Ichigo's transformation into a death god were true. Whatever the case there was no doubt in her mind that their 'office manager' made her daily commute from a place no normal human could reach.

Why did everybody act like she was better off not knowing what was going on?

Karin hated being treated like a child. As if her inclusion in these obviously important affairs was unnecessary. She was therefore extremely glad at having availed herself of a willing source of information back when all the craziness happened. Thanks to a certain uncouth ghost-lady missing an arm, she now understood a great deal about what took place over the spring and fall of last year. A madman had sought to make himself king of the afterlife. Using monsters under his control, this person declared war on the shinigami, who were led in part by her brother Ichigo. Their father also played a role in that battle. And the site of this reality-altering conflict turned out to be right here in their hometown. All of Karakura had been in jeopardy… or not, she had a hard time understanding the full explanation. The whole thing was very confusing, riddled with double-crosses, fake-outs and outright lies from every side.

When it was finally over the maniac had been locked up in a dimension from which there was no escape along with his most powerful followers. His army was put to rout, after which the shinigami bent themselves to rebuilding their broken society. From that point on there were remarkably less examples of the so-called Hollows, fallen spirits of the deceased who preyed on souls both living and not. Actually, fewer ghosts of any stripe were seen of late. Being one of three members of the family able to perceive the spiritual realm at work, Karin was rather relieved to find that nothing truly weird was going on in these parts. Karakura Town had never been more peaceful in her opinion.

Except a few weeks after all that happened, Karin and Yuzu met a man on their way to school. He spoke to them by name. He smiled at them. He asked how their father Isshin was doing.

As he did, Karin suddenly had a mental image of herself and her sister lying dead in the street while this man smiled down on them.

She had grabbed Yuzu's hand and gotten away from there fast. Karin knew she shouldn't have been afraid. Ichigo was close by after all. He even stayed behind while a friend of his took them the rest of the way to school, obviously choosing to confront the stranger. But there had been something dangerous about that person which she couldn't get over. Later on both girls asked to know who he had been. Ichigo refused to divulge anything about what happened afterwards. He just informed them they should not to talk to strangers. But later on, he had taken Karin aside for a private chat.

"If you ever see that guy again," he spoke quietly, kneeling down and gripping her shoulders, "I want you to run. Don't let him catch you."

He was obviously furious, but she understood his anger hadn't been directed at her. This was different than a vague mistrust of strangers. Ichigo knew that guy from somewhere. Karin suspected he might be one of the shinigami, although there hadn't even been a single trace of anything supernatural coming off him. Come to think of it, he almost didn't exist at all, spiritually speaking. Karin couldn't tell if Ichigo was scared for their sakes or frightened of the man himself.

But only a few days after that, the Dragon Lady showed up. Their father made a brief introduction to let them know this beautiful but cold-faced taskmistress would be working there as an office manager from then on. And now wherever Karin went she had the uncomfortable feeling that woman knew exactly where she was and what she might be doing. Like 'Big Brother', only it was 'Big Sister'. Big Sis is watching you. Or maybe watching out for you. Still, nobody bothered to explain the situation to her in full. Her family was a dead end. Ichigo's friends seemed to treat her with consideration, but ultimately they remained tight-lipped about anything involving the afterlife. The only person she could really talk to was Kon, and he was not only ill-informed but a doofus to boot. Well, in her opinion, at least. Karin knew a lot about stupid people. The world was full of them after all.

"What do you think?"

"Hmm?" Karin looked up from winding a scarf around her neck. Yuzu regarded her anxiously while buttoning on her coat in the foyer.

"I said do you think she's a spy? Like from North Korea? Kubo from my class, he said they swim across the sea to Kyushu and then they get jobs so they can blend right in and nobody can tell who they are! So what do you think?"

She regarded her anxious sibling. Yuzu didn't seem aware that the person under discussion was in the next room busy extricating their father's head. At last she nodded solemnly and said, "Yes, she's a spy. Fear her, Yuzu." With that Karin hoisted her backpack onto one shoulder. She tapped her shoes securely before opening the door, calling out as she did, "We're off!"

"Karin!" the other girl huffed, "Don't say it if you don't mean it, I'm not…!"

The Dragon Lady stuck her head around the corner. "Be careful crossing the street."

"EEEK!"

Karin almost got knocked over by the force of Yuzu rushing past. She watched her twin flounder through the snow and glanced back at the source of this panic. The emotionless woman regarded her right back, face stiff and flat, like a stone statue. Her spectacles glinted strangely so that the eyes could not be seen. "Watch over them," the Dragon Lady said.

Karin instinctively knew it was not herself she was addressing. From within her bag there came a slight rustling. No doubt that meant Kon got the message. For her part the middle-schooler only nodded goodbye before setting out to catch her fleeing sister. Today it was Orihime's turn to walk them to school. Not her personal favorite, but a definite improvement over the sour-faced tailor.

Even these thoughts fell by the wayside as the girl entered that splendid scene of icy serenity. Taking a deep lungful of the crisp winter air, Karin let it out, enjoying the sight of her breath misting all over the place. Some things you had to take the time to enjoy no matter what. And all this meant snowball fights, sledding, winter tag, the whole deal!

"It's about time," she smiled happily.

* * *

><p>"I think it's good you've spent this long a time apart."<p>

"_SHUT UP, ISHIDA!"_

Ishida Uryū took a slow, deep breath through his nostrils, then let it go. He allowed all his anger at the surly red-haired jackass walking beside him to flow out with it. Control, Quincy, control. Much as he deserves a beating right now, you didn't start this conversation for the sole purpose of knocking that thick skull around. More like knock some sense into it, right? Yes, very good. Now then; proceed. "I only meant…"

"_I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP, DAMMIT!"_

Ichigo walked on ahead, resembling a caged lion frantically pacing its cell back and forth. Back and forth, finding no way out and growing angrier by the minute. Depending on your personality you either mocked the noble beast or pitied it.

For his part, Uryū was picturing something else: namely, how his erstwhile ally would look with a Quincy arrow straight through his stupid donkey _head! _

His fingers twitched as though already drawing the shaft back. Let him walk a few paces on. Let him think he's had the final word in this argument. And then… TWANG! Right through the brain! Right through the _brain! _Mouth off to me then, you ungrateful immature violence-prone pinch-faced…!

The normally solemn student shook his head to dispel these notions. He had to get the conversation back on track. A lot of people were depending on him. Far from resenting this burden, Uryū appreciated it. Showed how much they valued and respected his abilities. He was the man willing and able to say what nobody else could.

That… or he was just the biggest sucker alive.

"Rukia is safest far away from you," he stated softly.

Several yards ahead Ichigo drew up short. He clearly hadn't missed that comment. Uryū stopped as well to wait patiently. He took stock of their surroundings. There were a few other students walking further up the street. His spiritual senses could detect no one behind them. The occasional car or motorcycle passing by would be moving too fast to notice anything that might happen. For a little while, at least, the two of them were alone on this snow-packed lane. A short alley in the wall beside them led to a stone staircase that ascended the hill. That would serve nicely.

When Kurosaki turned around and came walking back Ishida was ready for him. The guy was too upset to even hide what he was about to do. Uryū took in the blazing eyes, tightly clenched jaw, and surging red face. He had never seen him quite this ugly with wrath.

Then a blow was rushing at his head with enough force to break his jaw. There was no surge of adrenaline in the Quincy, only lightning-quick calculation and reaction. He swung one arm up in a swift cross-block that sent Ichigo's fist brushing right past his ear. Taking advantage of his foe's wild overreach on that first attempt, Uryū sought to end this before Ichigo could even think about fighting smart. He grabbed the man's coat sleeve and yanked backward, pulling him further off balance while turning them both all in one move. At the same time the slender youth spun around on one heel to allow Ichigo to go blundering past under his own momentum into the alley.

Ishida then followed him in. The angry numbskull went stumbling forward a few paces before whipping around in preparation for further hostilities. All too late. Ichigo Kurosaki had a brief moment to register the Quincy drawing back an arrow before the blue shaft of spirit energy short forth and took him right in the chest.

The impact knocked him off his feet. All that snow cushioned the blow somewhat, but Uryū still winced when Ichigo hit the ground. That looked like it hurt. This was all the time he gave himself for commiseration. His attack had been nowhere near deadly force; just enough to bring the big galoot down. All the same it had served its purpose. While Ichigo lay stunned and in pain, Uryū stalked forward, grabbed one wrist and kicked him over on his back. He then twisted the limb around, placing his foot between his classmate's shoulder-blades.

"You think you can bully me, Kurosaki? Don't forget the difference between us. Spiritually you might be a complete monster. But in the physical world, all that vaunted shinigami power doesn't amount to _squat!"_

He increased the pressure on his hold. Ichigo snarled incoherently but could not break free or even lever himself upright in this position.

"As long as you're wearing flesh you're nothing special. Whereas I am able to access Quincy powers no matter the situation. So I can talk to you like this, or release you so we can engage in a respectful discourse as equals. On your honor, which do you choose?"

For a few seconds Ichigo just panted with his cheek pressed into the snow. After a while he gave a curt nod. "Fine. I give, Ishida. Now let me up."

Uryū studied the beaten youth before letting him go. He squatted beside him while Ichigo nursed his aching shoulder. The shinigami substitute threw him a venomous look, and for a moment Uryū braced himself for the resumption of combat. Instead Kurosaki indicated towards a small bench set into the wall. "Have a seat if you want to talk so bad you'll risk being late to school."

This earned him a scornful glance. "I don't intend to tarnish my record over you." All the same, he took his place on the bench, brushing the snow off beforehand. Ichigo joined him momentarily, still rubbing his shoulder. Uryū did not fail to notice he seemed to be expressing more pain from that injury than one might have suspected. Actually, given his behavior up to this point, it would not be impolite to ask…

"Ichigo, has the Hollow been active lately?"

His comrade tensed beside him. After a while he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, head drooping down with a groan. "No. At least not in any way I've been able to notice. Trust me, he's not into subtle stuff. If he tries anything it's usually obvious."

Uryū considered this. The creature's presence could have an effect on Ichigo's body, in much the same way that immune-deficiency viruses made their hosts more susceptible to pathogens and the pain of illness. This warranted further investigation. "Have you tried speaking to it?"

A grunt in response. "He stopped talking to me after the war. I think the experience of what happened in Hueco Mundo and then in Soul Society kinda freaked him out. He went into hiding after all that. Don't really know where. Sometimes when I enter my soulscape I look for him; keep expecting to find him hiding out in a cave somewhere. It never happens, though."

The Quincy considered. As he understood it Hueco Mundo was still engaged in a civil war following the defeat of Aizen. The so-called Masked Army had been attempting to assert control over the remainder of those forces that returned to the Hollow world after their failed attempt to conquer Soul Society. Further information was not forthcoming. His status as a Quincy notwithstanding, it would have been hard to get a detailed combat assessment out of that place under normal circumstances. And since Zaraki Kenpachi took his squad over there, any sort of order being restored seemed even less likely.

The plus side of all this meant the Hollows were less concerned with feasting on the living than surviving altogether. That left the human world as a sort of combat-free zone. After all, Soul Society could detect when a Hollow came into this plane, making it no longer a safe place to escape for them. So humans should be able to go about their business without fear from spiritual menaces for a change. How often could you say that?

The down side meant people in his profession had precious little work that needed doing. More time on your hands led to discontentment. Case in point: the living pressure cooker sitting right beside him.

"I know that you haven't had any Hollows to beat up in a while," Ishida began. "School demands haven't decreased in the slightest either. To top it off that woman keeps you busy trying to pound all her shinigami knowledge into your brain. And worst of all, there hasn't been any word from Rukia in over four months. Am I right?"

Ichigo nodded without looking up. It was time to start this session in full.

"That being said, you're behaving like a complete ass."

Ichigo scowled in frustration, rubbing his legs in an attempt to warm them. "I have been through a lot of crap in my life, I'll have you know," he muttered sullenly.

"You've got a lot going for you too, don't forget that." Ishida checked his watch to make sure of the time. "A good home life, friends who actually care about you more than what you can do for them, and the health to appreciate it. From certain perspectives you've been blessed. I don't understand why you choose to highlight the negative over all that."

"Because I know it can all go away if I'm not careful!"

"You don't act that way. In fact, you're in danger of losing some of those virtues out of sheer carelessness. When was the last time you went out with friends?"

"Who are you, my mother?"

Ishida was on the verge of hitting him for that tactless comment. Only at the last instant did he notice how Ichigo flinched away all on his own. Clearly his mouth was going faster than his brain, because only now did the big lout seem to realize the implications of that statement. He clammed up fast afterwards, drawing inward on himself in a way that was completely visible.

The bespectacled youth considered him. "Are you so afraid _he'll_ hurt the ones you love that you won't even have anything to do with them? Is that it?"

"NO! Damn, you sound like a psychiatrist now! Just leave me alone, will you?"

They sat quietly for a while after that. So it's not the Hollow making him behave this way. Which left only one obvious explanation. One that was just as hard to deal with as an inner Hollow, and not so esoteric. Uryū didn't try to initiate further conversation. If anything useful was going to occur, Kurosaki would have to come to that conclusion himself. And so, patience.

In less than a minute Ichigo started to fidget uncomfortably. He scuffed his shoes through the snow and stood up to begin pacing around. The other teen only watched him without comment.

At last he rounded on him. "It's just they've all put me up on a pedestal! Got my whole life mapped out for me. Or death, I don't know! I learn Demon Magic, get stronger, become a captain or whatever they're calling it now, then go on to blast through any freaks that come my way forever! That's exactly the sort of crap Kyōraku had to put up with for eternity. He gets to relax now, so obviously somebody's got to take his place. I'm the secret weapon they're building up in reserve on the chance that psycho and his crazy posse pick the lock out of Nirvana! What the hell kind of future is that? Can't I take a while to deal with the world I'm living in now instead of worrying about what comes later?"

Obviously Ichigo had taken a different slant on his situation than other people. Soul Society was doing this as much for him as they were themselves. Even he, Ishida Uryū, a Quincy, had to admit that. The truth was that if Ichigo didn't avail himself of every possible resource and power at his disposal, he would eventually regret it. Those he resolved to champion would suffer for any lapses on his part. And yes, that was an extremely large burden to place on the shoulders of a sixteen-year-old boy. One that any person would find difficult to support without feeling resentful, unless they were a saint. So to discover that Ichigo was feeling confined by all the expectations and potential being heaped upon him was something an average person could understand.

Fortunately, Uryū was no such thing. He had been dealing with the exact same situation since childhood, so he could be relied upon to have absolutely no sympathy whatsoever for this whiny dimwit.

"Kurosaki, you've thrown away better things than I ever had."

The redheaded teen emitted a sour grunt. "I knew I couldn't talk about this with anybody." Ichigo leaned back against a wall. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he glowered at the unhelpful Quincy, who had taken to inspecting his gloves punctiliously as if in search of a loose thread he might sew up. "You realize that I can't live my whole life for the sole purpose of defeating Aizen, right?"

The archer sniffed. "No one expects you to."

"Good!"

They didn't look at one another for a while. Ishida counted down in his head. Three… two… one...

Ichigo glanced up sharply. "Wait, you mean about living my life that way, or actually defeating Aizen?"

"You should be less worried about that than you are the immediate situation." Uryū left off his wardrobe examination. His face had adopted an even more deadly shade of serious than before. "It's obvious the biggest concern on your mind now is Soul Society. And unless I miss my guess, Rukia's at the heart of that matter. I spoke to your sisters yesterday, and they confirmed that you're as much a pain in the ass at home as you are during school hours. If all it took to make you a civilized human being again was having her back, then I would be the first to volunteer for committing suicide so I could get away from you _and_ try to find Rukia in Soul Society! But the fact that she hasn't seen fit to return in all this time should be telling you something on its own."

"And that is?"

Ichigo had clumsily admitted to having a relationship with Rukia shortly after their return to Earth. While it came as no surprise, Uryū had a difficult time wrapping his head around the notion of full-blown romantic love. And with a dead girl to boot. But considering Kurosaki's parentage (another point he had let slip), perhaps it wasn't so farfetched. It was slightly irksome that he had to spend so much time analyzing someone else's love interest like this, but here goes.

"In case you haven't realized yet, Rukia is not your teenage girlfriend who can't be bothered to remember how to pick up a phone! As a high lady of the Kuchiki, she is in a position of authority over there. Their social system is still in a shambles, which they are trying to rebuild. And people with power need to set aside their personal concerns when faced with a crisis of that magnitude. Something the people of this country can relate to!"

That remark seemed to have pierced the haze of Ichigo's vanity, giving him a thoughtful expression. For that Ishida was very glad.

"Rukia is involved with something important. So important that she can't even make time to see the people she loves. And _only _when that is finished will she return, because to do otherwise would show disrespect for the tasks their society needs from her! That should tell you how much is depending on her actions right now. Do you think she's slamming doors and being a general pain to live with like you are? That sort of behavior in no way earns you the privilege of seeing Rukia again!"

He could think of nothing more cogent to say on the subject, so Uryū settled for letting his words sink in. The truth was that the rest of their schoolmates who shared a personal stake in this case had voted on him as the best person for trying to force Ichigo into recognizing his own poor behavior. It required a certain level of cool-headedness combined with a marked lack of concern for the other person that didn't quite border on hatred. In short, he was the perfect person for this job. At least on paper. It remained to be seen whether or not that theory proved valid.

"I just…"

Ishida looked up quickly. Before him, Ichigo was obviously struggling to put his feelings into words.

"I want there to be some kind of end, you know? Like something I can look at and know that it will be there for me once this mess is over, as a sort of… reward for having gone through all that crap. Otherwise what's the point?"

Now it had suddenly become very clear. It was so obvious. Ichigo Kurosaki had a hero complex. Everybody knew that. And when the hero finished his job slaying the dragon, there was supposed to be a princess waiting for him. To be honest, there were two of them. But he had already rejected one in favor of the other. Only that maiden wasn't around right now. Which left one frustrated hero at hand. How delightful.

Perhaps now it was time to slide the velvet glove of conversation over the iron mitt. "I'm certain Rukia is working hard for the same thing," Uryū spoke in a consoling manner. "Now then: you've been told flat out that this attitude problem is hurting your loved ones. You don't have the luxury of willful ignorance anymore. Are you going to continue like this?"

Ichigo shifted restlessly. "No," he admitted with obvious duress.

"Excellent." With that the Quincy checked his watch again. Satisfied, he stood up. "I'm glad that's settled in a timely manner. Now, you'd best start running unless you want Ochi-sensei to browbeat you in front of the whole class. Again."

Kurosaki scoffed at him. "Me? What about you, Mr. Perfect Attendance? I'd say we're both in the same boat by now."

In response, Ishida Uryū smiled craftily. "Oh, I think not. Quincy, remember?"

With that he formed a carpet of reiatsu beneath his feet. As Ichigo gawked, the spiritual savant lifted one hand in parting before he activated his _Hirenkyaku_ technique. Ah, the benefits of not being a shinigami. With that Uryū zipped up into the air faster than the eye could follow. In moments he was nothing more than a small mote off in the distance.

"OH, YOU MOTHER…!"

Biting back further curses, Ichigo took off down the lane, burning pavement with such conviction he could slam through a brick wall.

His course took him past a roadside noodle stand where three people sat enjoying bowls of steaming noodles. Seated beneath the glowing red paper lanterns were two ordinary middle-aged salarymen, and one other, not so ordinary. This last figure was heavily bundled against the cold in a green coat and leather gloves. Even that was not enough to hide the curvaceous feminine figure that burst out past any attempts to hide it. But the most unusual aspect of her dress was a bamboo _jingasa _hat of the type once favored by Edo-era samurai. From beneath the rim a stray curl of honey-gold hair hung down. None of the other occupants of that stand seemed to find this peculiar token worthy of comment. Or her, for that matter. Considering how undeniably appealing she was, anyone with half a brain should have realized that something was not quite right here.

Ichigo took no notice of this at all.

Blue eyes the color of a spring sky watched the boy as he tore away before returning to their meal.

* * *

><p>The school day couldn't go by fast enough. Virtually every kid Karin's age was visibly pining to be outside where everything from snowmen to icicle swords awaited. Never did their classes feel so tedious as when something preferable clearly lurked just beyond their reach.<p>

Of course Karin had something else to occupy her thoughts. Namely, how long until Kon gave himself away somehow. Many was the time she found her eyes straying down to her book-bag after being certain of detecting some slight movement or rustle. However no one else seemed to notice any such thing. In fact, the teacher once upbraided her for dividing her attention between what he mistook for a cell phone and his lecture on biology. Other than this and a few weird looks from her classmates nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Watching the snow falling from within the warm room, Karin couldn't help but feel there was indeed something magical about it. Like those flakes cast a spell that caused everyone to feel peaceful and calm. She didn't share this impression with her hidden tagalong. Best not to get his hopes up. Overhead the sky was a pall of forbidding grey clouds from which snow continued to drift down. The light that came through them felt ultra-sharp to her. It looked like something dire was brooding up there, and yet nothing fell except for some dainty little snowflakes that took their time on the journey earthwards.

After classes were done she decided to head home on her own without any company. Yuzu was busy with her afterschool clubs, but since Karin's only extracurricular activity was soccer, the snow meant there would be no practice today. She could have mentioned this to Orihime, only this was a day just perfect for solitary walks. The kind that Karin loved best. Besides, she had Kon with her. That's good enough in terms of protection.

The journey home was everything she had hoped for. Even the traffic was slow and sedate. Cars crept by with utmost care despite the streets already being cleared. The soft rumble of their passing let Karin know every time one was coming upon her. A girl on her own was an easy target for kidnappers, or so the school officials would have them think. She didn't know anyone who was the victim of an abduction. Still, it paid to be careful. There were worse things than human scum out there.

Karin ambled along, hands clasped behind her head. On her own for the time being, she stared at the cloud cover high above. Her fancy imagined there were gods up there just on the other side watching people go about their business. Not like shinigami, but the real… well, the _imaginary_ ones. Like Amaterasu, and Tsukiyomi, Susanoo. Brewing up storms and planning important matters for the land over which they reigned.

The sound of a zipper reached her ears. Moments later Kon's head popped up with a gasp. "Ahhh! Fresh air!" he breathed, then peered up at her. "What's the big idea heading home alone, Karin? It could be dangerous walking around like this."

"I can take care of myself. Besides, I've got you, right?" the girl affirmed while shooting a glance back over her shoulder. "Also I figured you'd want a chance to come out. Though you should've asked me if anybody was around first."

"Pfft!" he snorted. "Do you think so little of me? I can feel souls as well as a shinigami. Plus my hearing is top-notch! Mod souls were designed to be at the peak of physical capabilities."

"Too bad your creator didn't improve the brain too."

To her surprise, Kon didn't respond right back with an outraged comment. He didn't speak at all. Walking along, Karin wondered if she had said something she shouldn't. Usually the high-strung mod soul took her half-serious jibes with a measure of much-aggrieved good humor. Truth be told, they got along fairly well considering their relative positions. Him a semi-alive artificial soul, her a spiritually acute middle-schooler. Neither took their existences quite so seriously as others in similar positions. Like Ichigo. That meant they could kid around and not have to worry about hurting anybody's feelings for the most part.

Maybe I should apologize?

"Kon?" Karin began. "Are you all right?"

There was some shifting that let her know he had sank back down into the bag. A little bit later his slightly muffled voice came through. "Seriously, kid, you don't know what it's like being me."

"Sorry, I didn't think it would hurt your feelings."

Kon laughed then. It didn't sound happy. In fact it made her spine tingle. "Don't worry, you're not to blame. It isn't your fault I was born in a test tube and 'Dad' was a madman who killed off all my siblings. If Mr. Sandal-Hat hadn't been paying big bucks for black market goods snuck out of the lab, I'd be dead too." His voice brightened a little. "So remember that the next time your Pop goes all pervy-goofy on you. It could always be worse."

"Oh." Karin continued walking for a while, lost in thought. Finally she spoke. "Hey, Kon?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you… have a Mom?"

Some more rustling, followed by his pushed-in face peeking out of the bag. He looked somewhat concerned. "S'matter, Karin? I told you it's all right. You don't have to feel bad for me."

"I wasn't. Well, okay, I was, but that's not it. I just thought… you were born in Soul Society, not on Earth, right?"

"Right."

Karin stared at the featureless sky overhead. "So you didn't get to live as a human. You never had a Mom taking care of you when you were little. Some of the kids at school… they used to tease me about that. They said the reason I act the way I do is because I never knew my mother. She died when I was too young. I wouldn't even know what she looked like if not for photos. But I still… remember her, y'know? It's hard to explain."

Kon struggled up a little higher, crossing his arms over her shoulder with a sigh. "No, it's all right. I get it."

That surprised her. "You do?"

"Uh-huh." His voice became rather wistful now. "Believe it or not, I actually had a Mom. She only touched me once, but… I felt different after. We didn't speak. I couldn't even if I wanted to. But when she held me, it was like I suddenly knew what it meant to care about someone. I just learned how right at that moment. I never knew her name. Still, I can't forget what that felt like. And it's why I was so relieved the first time Rukia touched me, because I could feel that same thing coming off her. Concern for me."

This recitation had Karin practically entranced. She took slow, aimless steps without bothering on a direction. "What happened to her? Your Mom, I mean?"

He sighed. "Hell if I know. She never came back. After her the only woman around was…"

His words drifted off, and Karin heard him actually swallow like his throat had gone dry. "Well, let's just say you wouldn't want to meet that one. She was in charge of killing all the mod souls."

"Oh."

He shivered before slipping back into the bag. It was marginally warmer in there no doubt, but that probably wasn't the reason behind his sudden case of the chills. Karin walked on feeling just a touch guilty. She couldn't really say what the reason for starting this conversation might have been. They weren't even near the anniversary of her own mother's death. Maybe she had just been curious about Kon? There were a lot of things they had never spoken about before. And with his insistence that Rukia might be returning he seemed more talkative. At least in the sense that he had more to say than the usual brainless ramblings.

The snow was picking up. She only now realized that. There was so much more in the air than before. Karin shivered as a blast of icy wind blew against her bare legs. Maybe now wasn't the best time to be reminiscing together. After she got home, and changed out of her school uniform into something warmer, then it would be up to her how to spend the rest of the day.

Karin started off again at a brisk pace. In spite of the cold it remained nice to have snowflakes falling in her hair and onto her skin. They might get another few inches. Keep the snowplows busy, and maybe even cancel school tomorrow. Then it would really be time to party. She glanced up at the sky. C'mon, bring it, snow spirits.

Her feet ground to a halt.

Finally noticing they were no longer moving, Kon stirred in his hidey-hole. When nothing happened after a few seconds he began to grow nervous. Was somebody out there? A tap of his soft fist against her back through the bag garnered no response.

"Karin?" Kon finally whispered.

She didn't make a sound. There were no spiritual signatures to be found. All the same, a disturbing premonition was growing inside his cotton-stuffed chest. Disregarding who might see him, he crawled out to inspect the situation. "You all right?"

Karin paid his words no mind. She was too busy looking up.

Above them, the clouds moved. And not in a way that could be called normal. High overhead, the gray vapor was whirling about. It flowed and twisted in ways that made her think of a cyclone. If you looked very closely there might actually be forms up there, taking shape and breaking up far too fast to make anything out clearly. Karin frowned. She wasn't scared. Not yet, anyway. This was clearly something out of the ordinary, but there was no sense panicking. It didn't feel like when Hollows tore through, she could sense absolutely nothing coming from that leaden sky. Somehow that left her even more unnerved.

A weird wild howling came to her ears. At the same time, a form took shape high overhead. She had just enough time to realize what it was, when without warning…

The pack tore across the heavens.

Karin stumbled back a step, eyes growing wide as the breath left her throat in a misty gasp. It was a bunch of dogs, all made out of clouds. They were gigantic. Bigger than the school, maybe even bigger than the whole town. Great grey canines with empty hollows for eyes and teeth made of snow lunged from one end of the horizon to the next, disappearing in pursuit of prey. Their howls were the wind itself, a fierce cruel torrent of shrieks that made Karin feel as if she were being pursued by the pack, terrified and alone as they closed in upon her. Baying for her blood and ready to eat her _alive!_

It was endless. On and on that prodigious panorama flowed. While Karin stared, Kon tore his gaze free and peered swiftly around. Something like this couldn't be good. All the same, he knew better than to assume it was the only thing wrong. A big splashy show like that might just be a draw, a lure to keep your attention focused on it while a greater peril snuck up…

His head turned, and Kon sucked in his breath with a hiss. "HST! KARIN! BEHIND YOU!"

She whirled around, all thought of the cloud show forgotten. Immediately it was obvious what had caught his attention. There was a person approaching them. A woman if that curvaceous outline was any indication; tall and dressed in a fashionable dark green overcoat with fur-topped boots and black leather gloves. The top of her coat was left open to reveal an emerald green blouse partially unbuttoned, allowing two enormous breasts to poke out. While this in and of itself was no cause for concern, what immediately caught Karin's attention was the fact that the top half of this person's face was hidden beneath the brim of a bamboo _jingasa_, making her immediately think of old samurai movies.

Beneath that antiquated headdress, a pair of full pink lips parted slightly as if in surprise. The woman seemed to consider the girl and her protector for a while. At last she stirred, placing one hand on her hip and cocking her head slightly to one side.

"Umm… Hi! How you doin', Karin-chan?"

The voice was oddly familiar. While Karin was still trying to place it, that person started walking forwards. When she warily drew back apace in preparation of flight, the lady reached up and tilted her hat back while flashing a winning smile. This allowed Karin to finally recall where she had met her before. Crystal clear blue eyes on a face like _that_ would draw healthy interest anywhere in the world, most especially in Japan. And while this person had only been in her home for a few hours last year, the bizarre company in which she left made certain that Karin would not be forgetting her anytime soon. If only she had a name to go with it…

"Oh, come on, you know me, right? I'm Rangiku! Matsumoto Rangiku, Rukia's friend?" the ravishing beauty sang as she drew ever closer. "Remember? I tried to seduce your brother? And I ate that pudding with your name on it! Of course you probably only noticed that after I was gone, but still…"

When Karin took another step back, the shinigami paused. "Hey, now," she sighed, dark golden eyebrows lifting in a worried fashion. "Don't tell me you've forgotten? I know we were never properly introduced, but…"

The girl spun around and took off down the street.

Watching her flight, Rangiku's eyes narrowed before she began to pursue.

Karin ran, spurred by the fear that at any moment a hand would grab hold of her. At the same time she fumbled for the cell phone strapped to her bag. It bounced and swung out of her reach as if actively resisting any effort to grab hold.

"Here!" Kon yelled in her ear. "Use this!"

Glancing back, she saw he had dug up the glove and was thrusting it towards her. "No way!" she shot back. Before he could insist she made one more desperate effort and at last caught the bobbing phone. Triumphantly Karin flipped it open, hitting the speed dial keys and lifting it to her ear. "C'mon, pick up, pick _up…_!"

To her dismay, there wasn't a ringtone. Only static greeted her ears. Was it that woman's fault, or did it have something to do with the craziness from before? Either way it didn't matter. Obviously no help would be forthcoming from this angle. That left only…

As she came to this conclusion a dark shape shot over an embankment on her left and dropped before them. Karin skidded to a halt, panting.

Rangiku Matsumoto knelt in the snow briefly before rising to her full height. No longer did she attempt to appear friendly. Now her face had become a grim mask. She didn't seem out of breath from the chase at all, only taking a moment to adjust her apparel before stalking forward.

"Sweetheart, I don't advise trying that again," the heavenly blonde spoke in low tones. "Whatever they've told you about me I can guarantee 90 percent of it isn't true. You're in no danger here, at least not from my end." She gave a quick pout. "I mean, come on, do I look like the kind of lady who'd hurt a little girl?"

Karin only paid this entreaty half an ear. Flushed and angry as she was, the rest of her attention was bent on reaching for the last available recourse. The very idea made her queasy just to think about it. Unfortunately there didn't seem to be any other alternative. Trying to look as natural as possible, the teen placed both hands on her shoulder, as if adjusting the strap of her book-bag. She then left them there. C'mon, stupid, hurry up! I'm ready right now so get it done before I lose my nerve!

"Now, then," Rangiku appeared satisfied that her target wasn't going to run. She reached into her coat, producing a small silver flask. "This won't hurt a bit, I promise. You just need to cooperate for two seconds and…"

Karin felt Kon slide the glove onto her right hand before he then grabbed hold of the other. _Finally!_ Without wasting any more time she yanked forward, bringing the living doll up between them. She saw the woman hesitate, a flicker of doubt passing over her face. It was nothing compared to the anxiety tying Karin's stomach in knots.

I _hate _this part!

Trying not to think about it, she brought Kon up and kissed him.

Standing a few paces off, Matsumoto's eyes had widened to an astonishing degree upon witnessing this unforeseen act. They got even bigger when she recognized that gauntlet, one that bore a stylized skull wreathed in flames. In the same instant, Karin slapped the plushie on the back of the head with her gloved hand.

First came the gag reflex as Kon's mod soul pill shot from his mouth into her own, then a bout of nausea similar to carsickness. Afterwards disorientation hit full blast. It felt like being launched into a totally different environment. As if she were encased in a bubble in the ocean only to have it burst, complete with a popping noise.

And when it was over, Karin Kurosaki found herself to be a spirit, hovering behind her body that she was connected to by a length of chain.

"Grab hold!" Kon cried out, now wearing her skin. Without hesitation she obeyed, floating down and wrapping ghostly arms around her own neck just as they had practiced. As soon as he felt she was secure the mod soul sprang forward.

They were off in a flash. The girl and her ghost blew past the shocked shinigami, whose attempt to catch hold of them never even came close. Karin's legs, now possessing the spiritual amplification of a mod soul, tore along the streets faster than a missile. The snow on the pavement evaporated underfoot from the kinetic energy being applied to it. In only a few seconds they were over a mile away from where they had been.

"I don't sense her coming!" Karin yelled.

He took a firm grip of her spectral arms. "You won't. I think she's wearing one of the untraceable gigai that Sandal-Hat makes. That's why we didn't feel her before."

She glanced back behind them. "So what do we do if she goes full death god and comes after us?"

"Don't worry, Karin," Kon grinned. "I figure the whole reason she's got that meat-suit on is so nobody will know she's here. If she drops her disguise, then your brother and everybody else can draw a bead on her. Just relax and…"

Without warning Kon slammed on the brakes. He skidded forward, sending up a wave of wet slush before them. The mod soul then stood breathing heavily.

Karin looked around in concern. She couldn't tell what it was that had caused Kon to stop. Now that he had, their surroundings were becoming clear. They were at an intersection near a neighborhood park. No one else was about at this time; no people, and certainly not the shinigami responsible for their flight. So why, then?

"Kon?" she whispered, starting to get worried. "What is it?"

His head darted from side to side. "Didn't… didn't we just pass this place? I know we did! Why…?" With an angry grunt the speed demon then darted forward, causing Karin to hold on tight once more. The environment became a blur until Kon ground to a halt again. She could feel him trembling in her body.

And now Karin could see the reason why. That lamppost, the mailbox across from it, and the trees on their left… it was the same. Exactly identical to the place they had supposedly left far behind them. Like they hadn't gone anywhere at all! Right there was the park with a children's playground in the same place it had been before. What was going on?

When Kon seemed ready to zip off once again, someone spoke behind them. "Don't bother, little one. It's not going to make any difference how fast you go now that you're already in."

He spun about, taking Karin with him. Strolling up the lane, breath misting in the cold, came Rangiku Matsumoto. She didn't appear to be in any hurry. Her pace remained casual, like she was out on a Sunday stroll. At last their pursuer drew to a halt.

"I'm impressed you figured it out before I caught up. You didn't strike me as a particularly sharp whip in our first encounter, Kon." A smile lifted her lips. "Or was it Karin who noticed? Well, good for you both, either way. Now that you've realized the situation we can finally have a chat."

"What did you do to us?" Karin regarded her uncertainly. There didn't seem to be anything that might explain their current predicament. All the same it appeared that they had been trapped somehow.

Matsumoto offered her a teasing wink. "Not you. The ground you stepped on." She gestured around them. "Bakudō #59: Hateshinai Douro. _Never-ending Road. _This spell sets up a closed dimension. The intersection back there and the one up ahead of you are the beginning and end points. Walk through one and you'll find yourself coming out of the other."

Matsumoto then took a few quick steps off to her right. As soon as her foot touched a certain point on the sidewalk she simply vanished, only to reappear coming from the opposite side of the street. The voluptuous sorceress regarded them gamely, a teasing twinkle in her eye.

"See? No way out. It's a great spell because it's quiet and leaves virtually no detection. You must have run past this same spot a dozen times before it finally registered. Means we don't have to worry about being disturbed. Now that we've settled… "

Right then Kon lunged towards Matsumoto. Faster than a bullet he shot down the lane, with such speed Karin couldn't even hold on and was left dangling at the end of her spectral tether. Amazed, she watched as the undeniably valiant soul in her body flipped into the air, bringing one foot arcing down towards the shinigami with what looked like enough force to split a bus in half.

There should have been no way for her to avoid that blow. And truth be told there wasn't. Instead Matsumoto caught it, crossing her arms together to receive all that force head-on. Teeth gritted, the strain showed in her face as Kon seemed to hang in the air, driving downward with all his enhanced strength. He must have realized that there was no way to escape and decided to strike while the enemy was still off guard. A shinigami in a gigai was not immune to the demands of reality. Her boots actually dug into the ground, the heels snapping and concrete cracking beneath her.

In spite of this Rangiku held, only bending at the knees to keep balanced. The next thing Karin knew the woman had taken a step forward and was pivoting around, snagging the still-airborne child by the coat collar and dragging her over to a stone guard-column, quickly sitting down atop it. To the girl's chagrin she saw Matsumoto now had her preteen attacker draped across her lap. In this position Kon's legs couldn't even reach the ground or his enemy, leaving him to kick his heels in the air awkwardly. It looked for all the world like he was about to get spanked in her body, the idea of which left her so thoroughly creeped out the ghost girl could only gape in horror.

For her part the shinigami did not appear amused. She grabbed Kon by the wrist and pulled off the shinigami glove, dropping it well out of his reach. He fought desperately, pounding on her with his small fist, but to no avail. Only his legs received any sort of power boost as a result of hosting the mod soul. While he struggled ineffectually, Rangiku planted one elbow in the small of his back to keep him pinned down and once more produced the silver flask. She unscrewed the lid and used her other hand to get a grip on Kon's throat, angling his head up.

"STOP IT!"

Karin flew in and attempted to slug the blonde right in her pouty lips. As she had half-suspected, her blow went right through Rangiku, only causing her hair to ruffle slightly. The woman shot her assailant an annoyed glance.

"Relax," the deceptively beautiful lady advised. "You're not getting away. This'll go a lot easier on all of us if you don't struggle. And when it's over…" she began to move the flask closer to Kon's mouth, "you won't remember a thing. I promise."

"HEY! You fat bitch! Let go of him… or me, do you hear? Let go of _us!"_

Matsumoto didn't appear to pay her outburst any attention. And why should she? Like this there was nothing a mere ghost could do. Nothing either of them could do. She saw that Kon was crying, tears streaming down his red angry face. That got Karin mad too. He shouldn't be crying with her eyes! Or even allowing something this bad to be happening! Of course it wasn't as if she was faring any better. She could only watch helplessly as her body and possibly soul were about to be assaulted somehow. Watch as the tears dripped down her face to fall into the snow, melting it…

The girl's attention was caught by something then. Only a pace off there was a red splotch against the pristine white ground. Her shinigami gauntlet still lay where Rangiku had dropped it. For some reason Karin couldn't tear her eyes away from that patch of crimson, like blood against the snow. She found herself wondering why Matsumoto had bothered to remove the glove. What possible reason could there be for the shinigami to…?

An explanation hit so fast Karin gave a start. That's right! She's a shinigami! A ghost hiding in a borrowed body so no one will sense her! And that means…

With that she dropped and snatched at the discarded accessory. Can I even touch this? It's supernatural too, so maybe a ghost can move it. Her spectral hand closed around the unearthly item, pulling it up. YES! She then spun about and dove towards Matsumoto. The lip of the flask was moments away from being inserted into Kon's mouth. What might happen then was anyone's guess, but Karin was not willing to find out. The older woman's head whipped around at her approach, a look of surprise on her face, and with a wild yell Karin swung the glove to slap her on the cheek like she was challenging the death god to a duel.

There came a burst of energy, after which Rangiku Matsumoto floated to a stop in midair as a black-clad shinigami. Her gigai sagged forward lifelessly atop Kon's prostrate form. The pair of spirits faced one another over those two living bodies.

Any triumph Karin might have felt at her accomplishment melted at the look the honey-haired death god gave her then.

"Oh, you little…" Rangiku reached for her. There was no way to escape, she was still tied to her body by the chain.

Karin then noticed something odd off to one side. It almost looked like there were glowing cracks appearing in the air itself. She had just enough time to see Rangiku's eyes widen before a noise like a hundred windows shattering all at once broke the silence.

And then the Dragon Lady stood between them, arrayed all in black.

The grim-faced woman lifted one arm. Wasting no time, Matsumoto mouthed an incantation, conjuring up a wall of glowing yellow energy in front of her. This precaution proved worthwhile when a beam of white light shot from her opponent's finger to strike the shield. Bolts of miniature lightning flashed across its surface, and the whole thing began to quake. Behind it, the golden death god cursed and leapt backwards, moments before the magic wall blinked out of existence in a negation of spiritual energy.

Rangiku dropped down to land in the middle of the street. She appraised the woman coldly regarding her. Then she flicked her shining locks with one hand and heaved a much-put-upon sigh.

"You could have killed me, you know."

"I know." The Dragon Lady lowered her hand without ever taking her eyes off the sultry shinigami. Dark eyes flashed behind her spectacles. She proceeded to stalk forwards, fingers dancing to draw glowing characters that hung in the air. Power began building as a result.

With their attention on each other Karin took this moment to begin yanking herself hand over fist down her chain in a bid to retrieve a corporeal form. As she neared, Kon glanced up, an expression of shock on that familiar face.

"Wait! Karin, wait, not yet!"

She halted to regard him suspiciously. "Why?"

For a few seconds he just panted beneath the discarded gigai. Then his eyes dropped to one side. A lewd, lascivious smile twisted that young face in a thoroughly revolting fashion. "Her boobs… I can feel them, pressing into my butt. It's heavenly, Karin, let me experience this joy just a few moments more…!"

"You sick _PERV!" _The girl then bridged the gap between her spirit and flesh. A green pill flew out of her mouth. When Karin came to, the first thing she noticed was exactly the same sensation Kon had mentioned. With an exclamation of outraged disgust she immediately heaved that feminine deadweight off her. Face red and breath steaming in the air, the bedraggled teen took a moment to get her bearings. Then she sprang down and snatched up the mod soul marble, clenching it in her fists in a half-mad effort to grind the little slimeball into powder. Failing this she flung that orb into the snow and began stomping on it angrily.

'_Karin! Plea-!' _STOMP! _'Please stop!' _STOMP!_ 'I'm sorry-y-y-y!'_ STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

Observing this from a distance, Rangiku couldn't help but smile. She promptly turned her attention back to the icy witch preparing to strike her down. Her zanpakutō Haineko whispered warnings and exhortations to be drawn, however she chose to keep her hands well clear of the blade's hilt. Have to try and make it back to my gigai. With that she adopted her most charming smile.

"You certainly got here quick. And made short work of my _Never-ending Road! _Correct me if I'm wrong, but do I recall learning at the Academy how forcing your way in like that could be dangerous for anyone already inside?"

"Don't think you can distract me, traitor," the Dragon Lady warned as more evidence of magic began to take form around her body. With that she slipped one hand into her sleeve, emerging with a small _tantō _dagger in a black lacquer sheathe.

Matsumoto's face fell when she saw this. "Oh, come on, Lieutenant. Was what I did really bad enough to warrant the same treatment as Momo?"

"I am no more a lieutenant now than you are. The difference is I did not leave under a cloud of shame."

One vibrant blue eye closed in a wink. "And I bet they treat you a lot better as a result, am I right?"

Standing across from her, the potent spell-caster did not respond. Instead she pulled on her soul cutter's shaft, allowing an inch of naked steel to slip free. The light reflecting off that blade sent a shiver up Rangiku's spine. It seemed to be mirrored in its mistress' eyes, and she swiftly reevaluated her current level of peril. Apparently this one was deadly serious.

Rangiku drew a heavy sigh, causing her chest to bounce in ways other women could only dream of. "I never expected you would be fool enough to believe all those rumors. Do you think I could honestly have done what they accused me of?"

"It would not be the first time someone we trusted was revealed to be unaware of their true allegiance." Even as she said it, though, there seemed to be an edge of uncertainty in the sorceress' voice. So even she had her doubts. That explained why the attack hadn't continued yet. This became even clearer when she spoke next. "Disregarding your status as one of _her_ seeds, are you claiming you did not commit the crime?"

"Oh, no, I did it." Matsumoto grinned devilishly, allowing an edge of malice to flavor her own words. "I killed them all! I was referring to the rumors that I slept with Captain Hitsugaya. He's still a wee bit immature for me."

The Dragon Lady's face went hard with anger. Her concentration was momentarily lessened, and Matsumoto took advantage of this to analyze the situation. Her gaze flickered around their environment. It felt like at least two more were on the way. The Quincy for certain was approaching them. In no time she would be surrounded. Under these circumstances, it seemed there was no way to get back inside her gigai. Confound it. What a waste. Even if I try to escape she'll cut me off… or down, depending on the spell she chooses.

He's going to be so upset with me.

A hum of kidō building let Rangiku know that the brief lapse on her enemy's part had passed. A truly vicious spell was coalescing in the air between them. Guess there's no way around it. She then raised her head slightly and called over the other shinigami's shoulder. "Karin-chan!"

The Kurosaki girl left off pounding on her perverted protector to look back at them, at which point she smiled and lifted a hand before her face in a gesture of atonement. "_Gomen nasai, _kiddo."

Karin frowned and opened her mouth to speak.

As she did, Matsumoto whispered, "Hadō #54: _Haien!"_

Before the first syllable left her lips a wall of _Danku _interposed itself before Karin to protect the girl. No surprise there.

What might come as a shock is that the spell was already behind that barrier.

At the feet of Matsumoto's gigai, a symbol appeared in glowing purple letters on the bamboo _jingasa _where it had fallen. To her credit the Dragon Lady sensed at once how she had miscalculated. In a burst of shunpō she crossed the space between her and Karin to scoop up both girl and mod soul pill before leaping to safety. An instant later, at Matsumoto's command the sleeping kidō inscribed into her hat's brim was activated, and with a whoosh of violet energy, the _Abolishing Flames _annihilated her earthly disguise and everything for two feet around it.

"_Ciao, _Nanao-chan!"

Nanao Ise looked up in time to catch a glimpse of Matsumoto Rangiku inside a winding ribbon of pink silk. The fallen shinigami blew her old comrade a parting kiss before disappearing into the teleportation spell, scarf and all. In moments only Ise and Karin remained on that snowy stretch of road.

After confirming for herself that the enemy was well and truly gone, Nanao then settled her charge on her feet. Without a word, she began examining the girl to make certain there were no lingering spells of unsavory origin anywhere on her person.

Karin squirmed restlessly but submitted to the examination. She didn't bother to make any comment about this woman finally revealing herself as a shinigami. Nor did she protest this potentially invasive treatment. It wasn't the first time, after all. Though Nanao was by no means as gentle as that silver-haired lady from before. All the same, she appreciated her efforts both now and from earlier. Speaking of which…

"She was trying to make me drink something."

Nanao nodded to show she understood while continuing with the evaluation. Her fingers passed lightly over the fair skin, occasionally warming in ways that caused her patient to shudder. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Which didn't preclude the possibility that something might be wrong. They had been given ample opportunity to learn how devious Matsumoto really was. Who could say for sure what her intentions regarding this child might be? It paid to be cautious, as this episode demonstrated.

At last the checkup was concluded. Drawing upright, she looked down her nose at the scowling little human. Karin glared right back, seeming to notice the way Nanao's eyes lingered on the tear-tracks running down her cheeks. Hastily she rubbed them with her hands. "I wasn't crying," the girl informed her as if daring Ise to challenge the assertion. "That was Kon."

"Indeed." Nanao glanced down at the artificial soul clenched securely in her grip. She could feel the thing cringing at her displeasure.

'_I tried to protect her, really! Please don't tell Ichigo about that last part, okay? I was under duress, first there were these dogs made out of clouds, then …'_

With harsh finality she cut off his senses before proceeding to drop the errant marble into her pocket, at the same time removing a cell phone. She tapped in a precise code that would inform those in charge of the basics regarding this incident. They would send a clean-up crew to deal with the blast site and other examples of _Never-ending Road _Matsumoto set up in the vicinity. Can't have any humans wandering into those all unawares.

Satisfied, Nanao flicked the device shut before pocketing it. She held out a hand to Karin. "Come. It's time we were on our way."

The girl nodded in acceptance. She allowed the spirit's fluid fingers to settle on her shoulder before they both set out on the journey home. Even through the fabric she could feel that same odd tingling that came whenever a shinigami spirit touched her. Other ghosts were cold, but for some reason death gods always felt warm to her. Maybe it was a sign of their power. Although in addition, there was almost a sense of… well, perhaps you could call it gentleness. What some might label a motherly aspect. Like some measure of concern for her wellbeing was traveling over as well.

When they had gotten about a block away, a whisper of movement caught her attention. Looking up, Karin saw Ishida Uryū approaching them on a carpet of blue light, all dressed in white with a laughable half-cape swept over his shoulders. When he got closer she saw he was carrying Kon's plushy body in one hand.

The lanky high-schooler dropped down before them. "I felt something dangerous," he stated, a strange metal ornament dangling from his free hand. His attention went from the clearly hostile woman to the girl at her side. "Karin-chan, are you all right?"

"Your services are not needed here, Quincy," the stiff-backed shinigami intoned in a frosty manner. As they swept on by Nanao promptly grabbed the discarded toy from him and handed it over to Karin. "Good day."

Ouch. Karin glanced over her shoulder and snickered at the look of outrage on Ishida's face. In spite of everything she had been through, she couldn't help but relish seeing Ichigo's stuck-up friend flushing with indignation at this casual dismissal. A lot of these people had an overblown sense of their own importance. This guy in particular. It certainly wouldn't do any harm to bring him down a peg or two.

The girl and her two unseen escorts continued on their way without further incident. Empty-handed in more ways than one, the flustered Quincy renewed the spell to hide him from mortal sight before moodily flying off in another direction, vowing to persevere in his longstanding vendetta against all things shinigami and their despicable behavior.

Meanwhile, another black-robed guardian observed all this from her vantage atop a telephone pole. With a silent nod, she then sprang off and streaked away over the snowbound city.

* * *

><p>There was an awful lot of quiet in the house after they got back. Yuzu and Ichigo were still at their after-school clubs, which left just the two of them alone with Isshin and the Dragon Lady. This only served to unnerve Kon all the more.<p>

Once they got back home, Nanao consented to give him back to Karin before ordering them both to go upstairs. With nothing else to do, upon reaching her bedroom the girl reinserted him into his tiny body and promptly began booting him around like he was a soccer ball and she was practicing for the World Cup. Fortunately she already got most of it out of her system earlier, and they eventually found themselves lying exhausted on the floor. That episode had taken a lot out of them both from what Kon could tell. Picking himself up as best he could, the mod soul dusted off his spiky mane and turned to regard his roommate. "Seriously, though, how you doing there, Karin?"

With one arm draped over her eyes, the kid gave a weary groan. "I ache all over," she muttered, then shifted to regard him accusingly. "You went overboard. How come my legs feel like they're jello? It wasn't like that when we practiced before!"

"Meh, I was taking it easy on you." Kon crossed his arms and nodded his head in a sagacious and admittedly condescending manner. "Mod souls were designed to be placed in corpses, because there was always a risk that any vessel used might just implode from our sheer awesome power! I never had a reason to show you what I'm really capable of until today."

"For all the good it did."

He flinched and sent her a cross look which she gladly returned. To her surprise, though, Kon didn't keep it up for long. In fact, his face fell, giving him a rather crestfallen appearance. He even looked a little guilty now. "I'm sorry," the mod soul mumbled. "I didn't do a very good job protecting you, did I?"

His admission went a long way towards cooling her venomous ire. It was almost enough to forgive him for that whole gigai molestation issue… almost. Still, Karin felt bad at seeing the plucky little ragdoll so honestly contrite. "You tried your best," she sought to reassure him. "I can't think of anything more you might have done. I mean, for a second there, when you were hammer-kicking her? You actually looked kinda, well… cool."

"Really?" Kon glanced up at her in surprise. It was unusual to hear this cynical girl admit to admiring anything like that. Certainly not him. They had their moments, to be sure. Since their official introduction during the Autumn War, Karin had turned out to be a pretty good confidante. Or at least the one he liked the most, now that Rukia wasn't around. Yuzu remained in the dark about his identity, and their father belonged behind bars for some of the stunts he pulled. You'd think two admittedly perverted guys would have hit it off well, but there was no talking to the man when he was going into one of his tears. And some of his crazed ramblings involved his own daughters, which was just a little too out there for Kon's taste.

The less said about Ichigo the better. This left Kon with only one real avenue of acceptable social interaction inside this house. But while he had always suspected Karin held a higher opinion of him than she might let on, it had never really been confirmed before. At least not directly.

"Geez, would you stop looking at me like that?" she groused, hastily glancing off towards the window with a dark scowl. Was it his imagination, or did her face seem a little pink? Unexpectedly the thought made Kon shiver. I hope she's not getting to _like _me, or anything serious of that nature. I mean, I spend half my time in her brother's body! Not exactly the right setting to start anything. Wait, no, back up a second, I'm not thinking about stuff along those lines! A kid's a kid, and this one is practically like a sister to me. Not the way my Nee-san is, I mean _her _I'd be glad to get inside… hang on, this is getting dangerous.

Kon took a few seconds to try and puzzle things out, but only found himself getting more turned around. Eventually he just shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Wow. Never occurred to me I was _this_ screwed up. Must be from the whole business of getting jumped by the Slay-boy Bunny back there. Good thing I was so scared of what might happen to Karin or I would have really gotten off on the way ol' Fun Bags was treating me. Oh, the way they felt when she fell on me…!

A finger flicked him right on the nose. With a yelp he clutched his furry snout, tears forming in his beady black eyes. Just about to snap at her for treating a hero this way, Kon was stopped by a small hand against his mouth. When he regarded her warily, it was to find Karin had lifted her head off the floor and appeared to be listening hard. She then flicked her eyes in his direction. "You hear that?"

"Uhhh…" He paused to listen. Sure enough, in the ensuing quiet there seemed to be voices coming from somewhere nearby. When Karin got up and crawled towards a corner of the room, he realized it was emitting from the heating grate. Kon hopped up and moved to join her. The two of them both listened attentively.

After a while it became obvious that they were privy to Isshin Kurosaki engaged in conversation with Nanao Ise elsewhere in the house. But while their voices were easily distinguishable, what they were saying was not. Try as he might Kon could only make out a handful of words. Too bad; the tone of their conversation left him thinking it was a pretty serious topic.

Karin seemed to be having just as much difficulty. At last she peered over at him. "Do you think you can fit through the heating grate?"

"And then what?" he bristled. "Try to navigate the ventilation ducts in the dark? I'm not getting lost in there to satisfy your curiosity!"

She seemed to consider this. "Well, maybe you could sneak downstairs and listen in? We already know the Dragon Lady can't always sense you the same way she does everybody else."

The very suggestion made his knees go all weak. Kon shook his head vehemently. "I am _definitely _not going to risk my health to that extent! Do you have any idea what that woman would do if she caught me eavesdropping on her? She threatened to set me on fire if I so much as touched any of her precious business logs! To top it off…!"

"Hsst!" Karin held up a hand to call for silence. "Did you hear?"

"No."

"Then listen harder, stupid!"

He complied. The two spies huddled for a while beside the warm air vent. After a bit they looked at one another. "You catch any of that?" she inquired.

"I think he said 'why hunt'."

"No," Karin shook her head in disagreement. "No, I'm positive it was 'wild hunt'. But what was that other phrase they kept repeating? It didn't sound Japanese."

Kon thought back. "It was 'sewer nose', I'm positive this time."

"There was another 'n' in there, that's why I had a hard time figuring it out. It made me think of Spanish class. Like… 'Ser Niños', or 'Sir Nuñoz'. Something like that."

"Sir Nuñoz… Sir Nuñoz." The words sounded so familiar, which was all the more irritating because Kon felt certain he had never met anyone by that name before. It wasn't like he spent all day watching Mexican soap operas or anything. In fact, a good deal of his time was spent confined to this room with all the other stuffed animals, dreading the prospect of being dragged into another of Yuzu's hellishly uncomfortable doll parties. Uncomfortable for him, at any rate, she really seemed to get off on them. Against his will he found his eyes crawling over to the troop of his fellow cotton cohorts arrayed atop the cabinet.

And that's when it hit him.

"I think they've stopped." Karin strained to pick out anything else, then finally noticed Kon ambling off on his own. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Hang on." He proceeded to rifle through Yuzu's small book collection on the lower shelf of her nightstand. As she watched curiously, Kon skimmed over one title after another. "No, no," he mumbled beneath his breath. "That's not it. C'mon, you sexy beast, think. What was it… ah-HA!" With a triumphant cry he pulled out a large picture book and brought it over to where Karin sat.

When she saw the title, her skepticism returned full force. It was one of the mythology books that her sister had so avidly devoured a few years back during one of her ghost crazes. This one had to do with foreign religions. She remembered a few of the crazier-looking gods and heroes, but none of that helped her understand what this might have to do with what they had been discussing.

As if sensing doubt, Kon sought to make his retrieval plain. "I will freely admit to learning a lot of things I never knew as a result of being in contact with you and your sister. Especially Yuzu. She dreams up all kinds of imaginary conversations whenever she's by herself, most of it with a supernatural angle. Probably because you and Ichigo are the only siblings who can see ghosts. It also explains why she's in your school's Paranormal Phenomenon Club. But I'm getting off topic!"

He then opened the book to the back and quickly looked through the index. After some aborted spelling errors, he finally hit upon the right configuration of vowels and consonants. Kon then lifted an arm and pointed at the dresser top. When Karin looked where indicated she saw a happy-looking kitten doll with a sombrero on its head.

"_That,"_ the mod soul stated in a low, disturbed tone, "is my good friend Sir Nuñoz. He and I have weathered many a tea party together. And _this_," he then turned the book to a page indicated by the index, flipping it around so Karin could see, "is his namesake, the reason your sister picked that name in the first place. She thought it sounded Spanish too, see. But it isn't. It's Celtic."

Karin stared at the point indicated, working her tongue to try and frame the unfamiliar word. "Cur… Cer-nun…" Even knowing how it was supposed to sound didn't help her really get a feel for it.

Kon finally cleared things up. "It's 'Cernunnos'."

Saying it out loud didn't help. Rather, it was only when her eye fell upon a picture included with the name that she remembered. There was a crude image of a man with a pointed face and the antlers of a deer growing out of his head. And when she saw it a memory that had been pushed completely out of her head during the excitement today came back. Prior to Rangiku attacking them, there had been a pack of baying hounds running across the sky. And even before that she had seen…

Right then the door to her room swung open. Karin jumped upon seeing her older brother Ichigo standing in the doorframe wearing a livid expression.

"Ichi-nii?" she gasped, scrambling upright. "What is it?"

Ichigo ignored her, barging in without even asking for permission. His eye fell on Kon, who immediately looked nervous all over again. "What the HELL, Kon?" the angry teenager roared. "How could you screw up so bad? I thought I could depend on you for at least this much!"

"She fell on top of me, I can't help it if my skirt rode up!"

Ichigo's face took on a bewildered cast. "What?"

"Erm… nothing." Kon cringed guiltily.

Karin was looking between them. "Ichi-nii, why are you home so early? Don't you have club practice?"

"I got a call from Ishida. He told me what happened! Kon, I oughtta wring your rayon neck!"

"How could that fashionista tell you anything?" the mod soul demanded. "He didn't even show up until the end! And anyway, how come you didn't make an appearance? I'll tell you why, it's because you're so thick you couldn't tell if a _vasto lorde _was standing in the same room as you!"

Ichigo just growled and made a grab for the yellow toy, who deftly dodged aside. Her brother stumbled in his bare feet and spun around to try for another ineffectual lunge. Kon leapt and bounced off the walls with Ichigo charging along after him like an enraged bull. They were both shouting at one another, neither bothering to listen to what the other had to say.

Karin watched their embarrassing game of cat-and-mouse, feeling frustrated and pretty darn annoyed. When she finally had to slide out of the way to avoid getting dog-piled, that did it. "Alright, both of you: out of my room!"

She then proceeded to grab her honored elder's sleeve and drag him to the door. "What, me too, Karin?" Kon protested, trotting along at her heels.

"Yes, you too. I've had a very bad day and I want to get some sleep. Try not to make too much noise killing each other."

She nudged the velveteen sex-fiend out into the hall with her foot and shut the door. Karin then flopped down on her bed with a grateful sigh. Thoughts and questions were rattling around in her brain. She remembered Matsumoto's smile, the sight of that wicked shinigami facing off against the Dragon Lady, and the look Kon wore while he was trying to protect her. Then there was the ghostly pack and their leader. It would seem that things had gotten dangerous again.

Well, it was too much to process now. Best get some shut-eye until Yuzu got home. The sounds of different conversations slipped through the walls, reduced to simply a pleasant gurgle of voices. Like a stream splashing over rocks without sense or reason. It served to lull Karin's weary brain into a state of blissful torpor. In no time at all she was asleep.

Several minutes later, there was a stirring in the darkened room. As if finding nothing that would pose any threat, a small dark shape rose hesitantly out of Karin's slumbering body. It had no definite form. If anything, this entity resembled a collection of black dust motes held precariously together.

Bobbing along, the little shadow flapped its hazy wings and took off through the window, disappearing on its wayward flight home.

* * *

><p>Nanao blew on her tea to cool it. She spared not a glance for Ichigo when he went trundling by the kitchen, only pausing to take a sip before setting the cup down and regarding the man across the table.<p>

"The problem is we have no way of tracking them," the former lieutenant stated matter-of-factly. "And even if there were, it wouldn't make any difference. The Wild Hunt isn't even in this world yet. We have no way of mounting an attack until they do make an appearance. That's the way it has always been. But their presence is being felt in various ways including telecommunication disruption, explaining why the phones weren't working earlier."

"Huh," Isshin Kurosaki grunted. He rubbed his bearded chin, affecting a measure of calm determination totally unlike him. One eyebrow raised as he looked back to Nanao. "There's always Shinji and his crew. They're stationed in Hueco Mundo. I could ask them to try and track down our quarry. If he manages to get Zaraki on board, they could conceivably wipe out the Hunt altogether."

She crossed her arms and frowned into her teacup. The steam had made her glasses fog slightly, but Nanao made no move to take them off for cleaning. That must be inconvenient. Still Isshin appreciated her precaution. "You know as well as I that coordinated efforts to destroy them have been tried before. We're dealing with something that is as much myth and legend for us as it is regular humans. Virtually nothing is known about the Wild Hunt or the force that animates it. Whether or not they're really Hollows at all or some kind of natural phenomenon was a source of academic interest during my time at the Academy. Several papers were published on the topic. I could make discreet inquiries with some old colleagues, but I doubt they would have anything new to offer. I already read all their available works anyway."

"If only we had cameras back during their last run," her host mused thoughtfully. "Someone might have been able to snap a picture of Cernunnos, clear up this whole mess."

The noise of an altercation upstairs drew their attention. Both conspirators quieted down to listen. After a little while Ichigo came barreling down the stairs again, threw on his jacket without a word and slammed the door on his way out. When Nanao looked back at Isshin, she felt concern at the way his face seemed heavy with pain and anxiety.

_Rub his shoulders. That'll make him feel better. Then you can…_

Not now.

"There's no reason to think Karin or anyone we know was their target," Nanao swiftly sought to reassure him. "It could have been someone on the other side of the world and we were just seeing the tail-end of the pack."

"That's not what has me worried," Isshin finally admitted. He settled one arm on the table, leaning forward and gazing down at the wooden surface as if searching for hidden answers in the rings and whorls. When he got like this there was an air of tangible menace about him, a darkening of his otherwise carefree features that sent a thrill up Nanao's spine. It reminded her of something that regular contact with this man tended to make you forget: that in spite of his behavior, he remained a former captain of the now-defunct Gotei 13. One of the most powerful souls alive. "Matsumoto is a wild card, and there's no reason to think her presence in any way coincided with the Hunt. Regular humans can't even see it. But we can worry about her later. The fact remains that it is active again. And that means they're hunting someone. But who is it? And why have they been targeted for death? That's what I'd give my left nut to find out."

Nanao shared the sentiment, if not the sacrifice. "There is… one other avenue of information we might try," she phrased her suggestion carefully. "But it would require a visit to Soul Society, and possibly Hueco Mundo itself. That means…"

"Urahara," the Kurosaki patriarch finished for her, blowing out his breath with a sigh. "Assuming he's willing or capable of helping anyone."

"Not necessarily an issue. It all depends on locating our go-to-gal. That means Siamese Squad. Wherever they are is where their lieutenant will be."

"Well, it does make a certain sort of sense. And most likely nobody bothered to ask about the Hunt in particular when she was being grilled by Soifon's Vipers."

He stood then, and Nanao followed. The two of them headed upstairs. Stopping by Karin's door, her father listened with his ear pressed to the frame. Nanao waited patiently without comment. After a while Isshin gave a soft grunt of confirmation. He then opened the door slowly so as not to make the hinges squeak. Once this was accomplished the two outcast shinigami gazed on the girl curled up on her bed.

"When you want to know about Hollows…" Isshin whispered.

The Dragon Lady adjusted her glasses. "… ask an _Espada_."

* * *

><p>Forced out of his sometime home, Kon made his way up onto the snow-covered roof to brood. There was nothing that got his goat worse than listening to Ichigo upbraid him about not trying hard enough. Who was he to judge? Dumb kid just fell into his shinigami powers out of the blue, not like he ever really had cause to complain about getting short-changed. Kon, on the other hand, had to make do with a very limited and specialized skill set. He could run. He could jump. He could kick. And he was a pretty mean break-dancer too, but that was hardly of any help in this situation. Still, with a little creative know-how, talents like his could get a person far in life. Were he really of such a mind, he could become rich and famous in this world, capable of things no mere mortal might ever achieve.<p>

A brief image entered his head of him sporting a gold medal on the 100-meter dash winners' podium at the Olympics. Of course the scene was ruined by the fact that he automatically imagined himself in his little lion form, and the second and third-place finishers towered over him in spite of his standing on the top rung. This left Kon feeling even more restless and agitated. He glanced down at his stubby cotton legs, idly flexing them back and forth. Maybe if he had a real body, one he knew inside and out and could depend upon, things wouldn't have turned out the way they did today. Not that he was disparaging Karin, she kept herself in great shape. All that soccer really paid off in terms of leg strength. Still, it was always like putting on a different suit every time, he couldn't just acclimate himself right away without any hitches. Had he only been a little faster, more capable, that woman might never have laid a hand on his little sister.

Funny how he tended to think of her in that term more often than not. Both her and Yuzu. They were practically his only family in the world. At least, now that Rukia was gone. The other Spearhead Project mod souls were all dead years past. Who else could he turn to?

Kon stared out across the slate-grey horizon, considering. What I really want is a chance to fit in. Not just be a resource or a pest or however they actually look at me. I want to be treated… like a man, I guess! Show that orange-headed delinquent he can't razz on me whenever he's feeling steamed. Hell, I did a better deal of protecting his kid sister today than he did! Where was Ichigo, anyway? Off yelling '_Men!_' and '_Kote!_' and other crap like that. Who's he to judge me for not doing a better job? Rukia would understand. She took care of me. Treated me like a friend and companion! And occasionally a dishrag, but that's beside the point.

Not for the first time, he felt his chest ache with what he had come to recognize was a kind of dissatisfaction. With himself and possibly life in general. Kon never really viewed his status in the same manner he suspected everybody else did. They were all under the impression that he hung around because he had a job to do. But that wasn't really the case. Ichigo now owned a whole cartridge full of regular mod souls. He could use them whenever he wanted. Lately he just left Kon in his cotton carcass when a Hollow situation occurred, ostensibly to keep an eye on his sisters when he wasn't around, but also Kon suspected because he considered that an appropriate position in life for him.

Carrot-flavored ogre. Thinks he's so hot, maybe he should just stay a shinigami all the time! If we were on an equal footing body-wise, I'd show him a thing or two. Kick his butt. Make him lick my boots! Put him over my knee and spank him like a toddler, exactly the way…

The way I was today, when Karin stood in danger of being violated.

That ache around his chest turned into a stab of hurt, and Kon let out a gasping sob. Right then he noticed that he had been crying for a while now.

My fault. All my fault. I'm just a useless stuffed teddy bear, and because of that, a kid nearly got hurt. I couldn't do anything to prevent it. Tried my best. Karin even said so. Only it wasn't good enough. She saved herself, and was just being nice so as not to hurt my feelings. It wouldn't matter if I did have a real body, the end result probably would have stayed the same. And if Nanao hadn't come along to save us I might be dead right now.

The memory of being helpless today served to refresh his fears. He understood that feeling. It was one of the first things the mod soul ever learned. How it meant to sit very still, unable to save yourself, as those around you were taken away to die. Knowing that your turn would eventually come. Every time the lid on their container opened, Kon had experienced terror inside his little green pill as the cold face of Death loomed large over them, seeming to decide arbitrarily which ones she would take next. If not for some nervous little kid with big eyes and a rat tail sticking out of his scalp, Kon would have followed his siblings' fate, no doubt about it. He had been smuggled out to a land of hope and promise. A place where people cared about him.

And still I don't have anything to offer them.

"I'm… s-sorry," the mod soul whimpered, hunkering in on himself and crying unreservedly. His head shook from side to side in sad mournful arcs. "I'm… s-so… sorry!"

"It's all right."

Warms hands came around his waist. To his surprise Kon found himself being lifted up and set in someone's lap. As a pair of arms crossed over his chest in a gentle embrace, drawing him back to rest against this unexpected deliverance from heaven, a feeling of total peace and contentment stole over him. Looking out at the falling snow, he couldn't remember ever feeling quite so relieved and grateful. Except for that very first time, when he met…

Kon tilted his head around to see who held him. A soft smile greeted his eyes. In response, tears of happiness once more came to his own.

"Nee-san!" he whispered.

_To be continued..._


	2. Winter's End: Aide de Scamp

Off the coast of Peru, the early morning sky was beginning to darken out over the ocean.

Looking up, the boy frowned. He had been keeping himself occupied examining baby sea turtles as they hatched and made for the surf. Several of this early-blooming clutch had already fallen prey to hungry seagulls, and it was his wont to shoo away the swooping birds should they come too close to any under his inspection. Many the time he had been warned about disrupting the balance of nature, but what was the point of having a brain if you didn't use it to make decisions? He had the right to act on his principles, and defending helpless infants regardless of species appealed to him. It was nobody's business how he spent his time anyway.

But now he misliked the look of those clouds. For some reason they reminded him of the ocean itself. There was peril evident in both sides of the vast horizon now. Normally it was just the water he feared. The boy had always sensed there was something dangerous beneath the waves. Even before he was warned exactly what that threat might be, he never set so much as a toe in the waves for fear of what it might attract. To be sure, it had been many years since that particular sense of dread troubled him. One day the source of that foreboding simply disappeared, like it had relocated to he knew not where. In spite of this the boy remained dead set against entering that boundless blue expanse.

Only now, a well-remembered premonition of danger was back. Adding to this time came the sure feeling that it was aimed specifically for him.

The boy did not discount this warning. He had been taught better. It was time to go into hiding for a while. Let this menace pass him by like so many before. With that he drifted off the beach and slipped away into the coastal crags.

* * *

><p>Two black-clad Viper members stood at attention outside the abandoned detention facility once christened the Maggot's Nest. While certainly quite imposing in appearance, their strict unmoving posture did not necessarily indicate vigilance.<p>

Their commander demonstrated this herself, when she took out both of them before they even knew she was there.

As the pair of ninja collapsed unconscious on the grass, Soifon stepped past them into the undefended tunnel system. The fact that no one was now on guard at the entrance should be little cause for concern. Anyone those two could have dealt with posed no threat to a captain, and as she had just proven, a strong opponent would make short work of them anyway. As long as she was here, the situation remained well in hand. Appropriate reassignment and punishments could be determined later. Her squad members were not supposed to fall so blithely to anyone, captain or no. Excuses did not help you improve or mitigate your failings.

_Precaution._

Not to be taken unawares, though, Soifon first made certain to inscribe several kidō spells of varying hostility along the walls as she passed by. These would serve to warn her if anyone followed behind. Satisfied, she proceeded into the main complex.

Once inside the huge underground warren, the head of Viper Company took notice of her surroundings. No sound marked her passage through the derelict prison, not the swish of cloth or even the crunch of gravel underfoot. Soifon moved undetected as a falling leaf. The silence was both soothing and oppressive. It could herald the presence of those lying in wait to launch a sneak attack. Then again, a truly skilled assassin would blend into any ambient noise, unnoticeable by even local wildlife. Some might think this outlook would turn a person into a nervous wreck. And for most of the population that would be the case. But she was the exception, able to retain her sanity while remaining on constant alert. No successful captain of the Onmitsukidō would be otherwise.

Only a few months past, this facility was under Second Divison's direct care, its upkeep and security entrusted to them by the Council of 46. Now neither of those institutions existed anymore, at least not in their previous forms. The 46 had been decimated in its entirety. Shortly thereafter the legislative body itself was disbanded before suitable replacements could even be determined. As for Squad Two of the once-illustrious Gotei 13, it had also undergone a reordering, though of a far less fatal nature. Various elements of the Ninth and Third divisions were integrated with the Second in order to form the company now known as Viper. Whereas before they had been charged with all manner of clandestine maneuvers, the full scope of which were known only to a handful of individuals, now their tasks were much more narrowly constrained. Virtually every one of her subordinates had been astonished to learn that they would no longer be employed in the capacity of assassins. After all, some might say that the Onmitsukidō lived for little else.

How many of her colleagues would be surprised to learn that Soifon had accepted her new responsibilities without any complaint?

It was not a question of liking the new order. Rather she held a very clinical and pragmatic outlook towards her position. As the captain, she sought to represent everything that the post entailed. Members of Viper Squad need look no further than her to find a shining example of how they were expected to behave. However that did not mean Soifon in any way held affection for the duties she performed. She no more relished the taking of life than any other duty, though she performed it with a skill few could emulate and virtually none surpass. Every talent she could lay claim to, every skill at her disposal, served the purpose of carrying out her assigned role.

But while Soifon did embody her position, she did not define it. Her wishes had no bearing on the title of captain. She was not so proud as to think herself worthy of deciding what such a lofty role was meant to require. It was only necessary she ensure that the post was done no disservice by her occupying it. Not every soul was born with some sort of grand purpose, after all. This was why she could risk her own life, and dispose of others, without any compunctions. If she should happen to die, it would be no great loss to the world. Only were she to fail would there be any cause for concern. A replacement could always be found, but the consequences of a task left unfulfilled were not so easily remedied.

All the same, a diligent observer might notice that Soifon's pace this morning was slightly quicker than usual. Which could indicate a desire to be done with her business and leave that wholly unsettling place.

There was nothing further from the truth. The explanation was quite obvious: Soifon was eager to reach her goal, in a way virtually no other reason could be relied upon.

A trip down a long flight of stairs led to the opening of a large well-lit cavern. The ceiling was tiled whereas the floor and sides of this great burrow still showed rough unworked stone. A few chairs or tables were evident, indicating this had once been the main community chamber of the Nest, where inmates were permitted to congregate freely. Now it stood barren.

_Careful._

At least to all appearances.

Soifon remained perfectly still, allowing her perceptions of this place to flow together. As soon as she came in it had been evident that something disrupted the harmony of emptiness which should otherwise reign here. Now it was time to determine what that anomaly may be.

When she felt certain of her conclusion, the captain turned and bowed, one fist slapping into her palm with eyes cast downward in genuflection.

"Chōjirō-sama."

Ten feet away, where once to all appearances there had been only an anonymous stretch of wall, a figure emerged. Wearing robes of deepest charcoal brightened by a gold-pinned orange sash across his chest, Chōjirō Sasakibe appraised the woman genuflecting before him. "Feng," he greeted her in response. Neither of them bothered with official titles. It was emblematic of their relative positions here. In this place, at this time, they were not acting in a capacity as guardians of all souls. Socializing was in no way part of the reason behind their meeting.

The golden-eyed elder stepped forward. By the smallest twitch of his fingers did she receive permission to rise. As he passed, Soifon took up step three paces back to show proper deference. This allowed her to gauge the appearance of that proud figure, the oldest of all the current shinigami save for one. Despite the burden of centuries, the uncle of her clan leader displayed no signs of infirmity. In spite of the silver hair he looked to be in the fullness and vigor of adulthood. He had taken his wife's name after marriage, and though she was long since departed, Chōjirō of Clan Shihoin had never resumed his position in the family.

At least not officially. Some things about yourself could not be discarded, no matter the circumstances.

They did not speak any further. Instead the pair of retainers made their way through that empty compound, drawing to a halt before a door which led to the secluded detention wing. It slid open at their approach, and they found themselves facing a morose little girl with twin horsetails on either side of her head.

"Good evening, Ururu-chan," Sasakibe greeted her softly.

"Sir." The tiny guard lifted her skirts and curtsied in a distinctly Western fashion. To Soifon she made a full-form bow at the waist. The captain nodded in recognition, after which Ururu turned and led them down a darkened flight of stairs. After reaching ground level the trio proceeded in silence until coming upon a particular chamber, whereupon Ururu dismantled the spell architecture keeping this room secure while her guests waited patiently. When this was complete the portal opened and she led them both inside.

From behind the bars of her cage, Yoruichi Shihoin looked up at their entry and grinned. "Hey, guys! Glad you could make it."

"Yoruichi-sama," both of her faithful servants spoke and bowed at the exact same time. Soifon, of course, could not help but try and outdo the noble uncle by abasing herself just a bit lower. It was only proper, after all. She was not related to Lady Yoruichi by blood, and must needs show proper deference.

In the meantime, the Viper captain surreptitiously made a note of Lady Yoruichi's condition. A quick appraisal of her soul signature confirmed this was not a gigai simulacrum made to deceive the unwary. Nor did her mistress give any of the secret signals that would indicate she was being coerced in any way. Having confirmed this, there was no mistaking the lady for anyone else. She was wearing what looked to be a white short-sleeved shirt whose hem stopped just below her waist. And nothing more. On anyone else this attire would have been scandalous. Yoruichi managed to make it seem not only proper, but even had Soifon considering how it would look on her own frame. In addition, that skimpy garment allowed her to easily determine that the lady was in no way suffering from malnutrition or evidenced any sign of abuse. Her teeth were in good condition, mahogany skin glowing, purple hair clean and lustrous, eyes bright with no trouble focusing. She was the very picture of health despite being confined in this solitary cell twenty-four-seven.

_Confirmed._

Having satisfied herself as to Yoruichi's wellbeing, Soifon turned her attention to the lodgings. While small, there was no shortage of upkeep. Everything appeared clean, although telltale marks in the walls, floor and ceiling told her trained eye that ferocious combat had taken place here, and recently too. Which came as no surprise. For the past three weeks this cell had housed two of the most extraordinary souls in the afterlife. Following the Autumn War, Lady Yoruichi Shihoin had volunteered to incarcerate herself inside the Maggot's Nest, for what one could only assume were good reasons. In the interim she delegated her newly-reinstated roles as head of the Onmitsukidō and the Second division back to her prize pupil. This move was something of a relief, since Soifon had been uncertain what she would do with herself should Lady Yoruichi declare her services were no longer required. Now that issue could be set aside indefinitely, or at least for the time it took the Shihoin heiress to work out any personal problems. Meanwhile her loyal vassal would continue to undertake the roles with which she had been entrusted.

Which brought up an auxiliary issue that was far from pleasing. It had not escaped Soifon's attention that on the other side of those bars lurked another unmistakable form. Even now, curled up in a tattered blanket against the wall with his back facing them, she had no trouble recognizing Kisuke Urahara, former captain, colleague, and warden of this very same prison in which they found themselves. The realization that this loathsome undisciplined outlaw was being granted the privilege of spending every moment whether awake or asleep in Lady Yoruichi's company served to make Soifon clench her jaw in affront. The very idea! Not six months ago, there had been a warrant of arrest and detainment on that head which she would have been only too glad to see collected! Now he was enjoying a level of paradise that she, Shaolin Feng, had never dared to court even in her wildest dreams! It simply did not bear further consideration for the sheer effrontery of it all.

The fact that Urahara had been beaten senseless was duly noted, but it did nothing to deter her firm and justifiable wrath. Though he should feel privileged to be laid low by such divine skill as was possessed by Lady Yoruichi!

If the princess of the Shihoin took notice of this inner categorization on her part, she chose not to remark upon it. Instead Yoruichi crossed her arms over the bars and leaned against them. "Now, I know you're both still tremendously busy, so I'll skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point. I have a job for you."

Upon hearing this, Soifon could not help but grow excited in a way her normal duties never allowed. A secret mission for her patron sovereign! Her fantasies usually began in this way, but now was not the time to dwell on such things. Instead she listened eagerly for whatever must come next.

"Yoruichi-sama," Chōjirō addressed his clan leader then. "While I would be honored to undertake any task you deem fit, I feel it my place to remind you that Soul Society remains in a very tenuous position at this time. Not even a month has passed since the War. With the Rukongai destroyed, we are strained to the limits attempting to care for all the souls that have returned from the Kuchiki safe dimension. The residents have been most patient in this undertaking, but I fear that even striving to our utmost, it will be half a year before we can fashion something permanent in the way of accommodations for them. And that is a cautious estimate."

Soifon did not interrupt. Everything he said was true. Their workload as shinigami had quadrupled in the month since the Autumn War. And lest it be forgotten, their duties in the world of the living remained as well. The shinigami could only devote half their efforts to refashioning this realm. The remainder of their time must be spent escorting any souls lingering on Earth to their final reward. The captains (minus Zaraki, of course) had all agreed early on that the task of soul reclamation could not be allowed to fall behind no matter how daunting the situation in Soul Society. She herself had agreed.

Yes, all that remained true. And yet, should Lady Yoruichi ask it of her, Soifon was prepared to set aside all these concerns in an instant.

_Explore._

This was no weakness or selfishness on her part. More like honest deliberation. Already the ninja captain's brain had plotted her course in swift and sensible leaps. She would delegate authority of Viper Company to her new lieutenant, who had taken over following the previous Second Seat's decision to retire. Considering the injuries he received in the fighting, she had permitted him to do so without repercussion. The assignments that had been entrusted to her personally would then either be curtailed or granted to specific teams who could be depended upon to handle those matters satisfactorily. It would have been nice to give her vote on the Captains Council to Sasakibe-sama, but under the circumstances, that honor would be offered to Tessai Tsukabishi, another longtime associate of her patroness (and of a far more reliable persuasion than that blonde twit!). After all, Chōjirō had officially resigned as a lieutenant, though he still functioned in the capacity of a death god.

As it turned out, these preparations were rendered moot when Yoruichi spoke next. "Don't worry, you won't have to go anywhere just yet, otooji-san. It's not quite time for that stage." She squatted down with hands resting on her knees and regarded them both in a serious manner which sent a shiver up Soifon's spine. "Simply put, I want the two of you to bring someone to me."

_Alive?_

"In what state do you want them, Yoruichi-sama?"

The golden-eyed inmate smiled as if they were sharing a private joke. Before Soifon could even register the rush of pleasure this instilled in her, those eyes flashed a very dangerous light. This served the same effect as a bucket of icy water dousing her ardor, so that the next soft-spoken word felt like a cold knife slid into her spine. "Alive."

Soifon had to fight the instinct to swallow in a suddenly dry throat, turning her attention back as their mistress continued to instruct them. "The person in question is hard to find, which is why I'm first sending Ururu here to look for him." Yoruichi gestured over to the girl, who looked uncomfortable under their collective stares before giving a slight nod in acceptance. Satisfied, the cat goddess continued. "Once he's been located, she'll report back to Jinta and you can handle the rest. Considering how good the target is at hiding, it'll probably take her a while to dig up anything, which means you'll have plenty of time to attend to your duties. But even once he's located, he'd never just come along willingly. So if I'm not out of here by then, I need somebody dependable to catch him."

Their princess settled back on her hands and regarded the two vassals. "Sound good?"

"Of a certain, Yoruichi-sama," Chōjirō inclined his head gravely. "Thank you for taking our situations into account, I should have expected no less from you. Rest assured that when the time to call upon us arrives, we shall both be prepared to fully offer our services on your behalf."

Soifon simply knelt and pressed her forehead to the stone by way of showing acceptance. This served to illustrate there had never been any need for the Lady of Shihoin to doubt her own devotion in whatever way might be required.

In the back of the cell, a brief groan came from Urahara's huddled form. His cellmate glanced back in appraisal before returning her attention to their visitors. "That's all for now. I'll give Ururu all the information she needs and she in turn will impart it to you. Hopefully we won't need to speak again until everything's been resolved. I know that I can rely on your best efforts." This time when she smiled, it held so much warmth it was as though the sun had risen right in front of them. "Thank you both for doing this."

Peering up at such an amazing sight, Soifon's heartbeat raced at this token of high esteem. Upon feeling her face go slightly red, she hurriedly looked down at the floor in order to keep that shameful reaction hidden. A slight movement on Yoruichi's part must have been a permission to leave, as Sasakibe rose and began to back out with Ururu close behind. Soifon followed suit. On the edge of the doorframe, however, a thought occurred to her. Initially hesitating to speak it, she finally decided it could not do any harm.

"Yoruichi-sama?"

The Goddess of Flash glanced over with raised eyebrows. "Hmm?"

An urge to fidget uncomfortably was quelled without mercy. "If it is not too much trouble, might we be permitted to know the name of the target? In the interest of preparing for our mission."

Yoruichi did not look surprised at this understandable request. "No problem. His codename is 'Masahiko'." She then turned back to where Urahara lay, raising a hand in dismissal as she did. "Happy hunting, now!"

The door shut before her. Soifon considered this information while Chōjirō and the little golem moved further away. She knew the codename of every contact and target on file with the Onmitsukidō, and there was no one by that title. Could this be a sign? Was Lady Yoruichi trying to tell her something?

_Secret?_

Whatever the case, when she was eventually called in to act, there was no way she would let the target get away from her. This case shall be resolved to the satisfaction of all concerned.

_Spell._

Ah, yes. I must warn Chōjirō-sama before he walks into those traps I set up. Disciplining inattentive underlings was one thing. Incapacitating a nobleman quite another. With that, Soifon took off down the hall in pursuit.

* * *

><p>It felt so natural just to be sitting here that Kon could hardly bring himself to speak for fear of discovering it was all a dream. In spite of this he found himself blurting out, "I knew you'd be back soon!"<p>

In response Rukia held out another dumpling with her chopsticks that he took eagerly. She then went back to eating from her small neat bento box. In spite of this being food from Soul Society Kon found he could still handle it like ordinary fare, which was news to him. Perched atop a children's playground slide shaped like a penguin, the two of them continued their repast while watching the crew of shinigami engaged in their work.

Kon took a bite and studied this undertaking uncomprehendingly. "What are those guys doing, Neesan?"

She placed a fried shrimp in her mouth, chewing daintily before speaking. "Undoing the spells left behind by Matsumoto Rangiku."

"Seriously?" He looked on the proceedings with interest. Nearly a dozen shinigami were toiling on a deserted stretch of road. Any pedestrians or vehicles coming their way seemed to unconsciously make a detour around them without noticing what they were doing. This was something unprecedented in the mod soul's experience. "Doesn't seem like much going on. Other than waving their arms and a lot of talking."

"We have to be careful in case there is more here than predicted." Placing the bento to one side, Rukia hoisted her sheathed soul cutter up onto one shoulder. Her plum-colored eyes observed the proceedings intently. "The Thirteenth Division originally specialized in the handling of curses, spells and magic gone awry. Our specialty was fighting Hollows that favored unconventional methods over the mundane tooth-and-claw variety. That was our duty in the Gotei 13. We were a purification detail, you could say, dealing with enemies whose influence might last beyond their defeat. Quite the opposite of the Eleventh, in that you would hardly find any shinigami in our ranks whose zanpakutō was direct-assault-based."

Kon took this opportunity while she was absorbed in explanation to study Rukia. Her uniform had changed from what he remembered. While still black, it no longer resembled the outdated style of dress that previously defined a shinigami. Instead she was sporting a long overcoat with a high narrow collar that enclosed her throat. A band of white ran from neck to waist, where the jacket split in front to form a flowing hem that reached down to her ankles and flapped like wings when she walked. Tight-fitting sleeves ended in thin gloves attached at the cuffs that could be slipped off to dangle loose or tucked into pockets around her wrists. A white sash wrapped around her waist. She still wore baggy hakama trousers, only now wooden sandals had been replaced with soft black tabi shoes that had the outline of the old-fashioned rope laces sewn into them in silver thread. Kon had no idea what material this uniform was made of, but he got the feeling it was stronger than it looked, and definitely offered more protection than the flimsy getup all shinigami had been required to wear before. More modern, to be sure. In spite of this she seemed comfortable in it.

Actually, it kinda reminded him of the outfit that smiling traitor-captain had worn when he saw him briefly back during the War. But Kon did not dare mention this. Instead his gaze drifted downward to focus on her left arm. More specifically, to the small wooden badge with the outline of a bird burned into it. He knew what that meant. Some things don't change. "Those guys down there all work for you, don't they? You're their boss now."

Her fingers reached to touch that wooden seal in what he guessed was becoming a habit. Like she needed to make certain it hadn't disappeared. "I gained the position of lieutenant in Heron Squad shortly after its formation."

"Heron?" That name didn't jive with what he knew about the Gotei 13 from talking to Ichigo and the others.

"Yes." Lieutenant Kuchiki lifted her chin to study the heavens. "There are seven divisions now in place of the old thirteen. Their names are Heron, Viper, Siamese, Tiger, Leopard, Ibis, and Greyhound. Heron is made of my old squad, the Thirteenth, in addition to the Fourth. Viper is Second division mixed with elements of both Ninth and Third. The Eighth joined the Tenth to make Leopard Company, while First, Sixth and Seventh formed Greyhound. The Eleventh absorbed certain volatile former prisoners of Seireitei who were handed over by the Onmitsukidō and so became Tiger. And the Twelfth took on recruits from the Fifth, renaming itself Ibis. Any leftovers or those who didn't fit a particular mold turned into Siamese, which actually made it one of the largest."

Numbers and tiny animals were running around Kon's brain in a confusing jumble, all being chased by little bouncing bunny rabbits. It was too much to take in at once. He shook his head vigorously and concentrated on what he did understand. So Neesan got a new gig. On the one hand, it was nice to know that Rukia was doing well in her job. But on the other, this probably meant she would not be sticking around for very long. As he understood it, lieutenants didn't get the chance to go off on their own very much. The result being that he wasn't quite sure how to feel about this news. Gotta say something, though.

"So you're doing pretty well for yourself. Good for you, Rukia-neesan!"

"Hmm." The noblewoman nodded primly without further comment. Meanwhile Kon continued to regard her in a new light. It was oddly exhilarating the way this beautiful soul sat there all reserved and demure when she now had the power to command legions of shinigami. Turns out a powerful woman was more of a turn-on than he had ever realized.

Kon couldn't resist asking. "Say, Neesan, can you do me a favor?"

Rukia glanced over at him. "What?"

"Boss around some of your underlings for me! Really make 'em shiver in their shoes!"

One of her short eyebrows rose in response to this odd request. Undeterred, Kon found he was getting more worked up as his imagination roared into high gear. "Do you have a whip you can crack? Or maybe leather stilettos you can step on a guy's head with! I wanna see how you look when you're barking out orders and making 'em grovel at your f-AGH!"

This last exclamation resulted from the tip of Sode no Shirayuki's sheathe being driven into the back of Kon's head, slamming the deviant teddy face-first into the playground roof and pinning him there. While he flailed wildly and made muffled exclamations, Rukia snatched another bite of her meal and chewed with a moody frown, resolutely refusing to look at what she was doing to him.

After a while she relented and set him free. Kon came upright with a gasp. He sat there panting heavily for a while. Eventually the little lion's head bowed down, and a violent shiver rocked his frame. Rukia regarded him curiously while continuing to chew. To her surprise, when Kon's chin lifted he was smiling with tears in his eyes.

"Damn, I've really missed that! And you, Neesan!" he wheezed happily.

At this, the lavender-eyed lieutenant swallowed before cracking a smile. "I'm glad."

They went back to watching the purification ceremony. A minute later Kon finally worked up the courage to ask what had been bothering him. "So this is just an assignment. You're not here to stay again, are you?"

"No." Rukia passed a hand through her hair and exhaled slowly. It was enchanting seeing her with eyes half-closed, a wistful look on her face while snow fell through her spectral form. He almost missed what she said next so taken was he by her. "I just saw an opportunity and… went. Nanao sent us the intel and Heron was assigned to remedy the situation. Captain Kotetsu didn't tell me not to go, so it isn't like I did anything wrong."

It sounded like she was rehearsing an explanation for when she finally got back. Kon started to feel desperate knowing that their time together was short-lived. "They're all okay!" he hurriedly sought to reassure her. "The twins, Orihime, even Chad and Pencil… I mean, Uryū."

She shifted a bit to regard him. "And Ichigo?"

Here Kon hesitated. Should he tell the truth or gloss it over? Maybe it didn't matter and the Dragon Lady had already informed her old colleagues about everything. Agh, this is taking too long, she'll know something's up!

"He's… no good. Without you, I mean. It's really eating him up not having you around."

The shinigami did not respond. She quickly looked back towards the worksite. All the same, he could see how much that statement hurt. While Rukia's attention seemed riveted on the job at hand, Kon suspected her thoughts were far away, with a certain orange-haired substitute shinigami.

He truly hated Ichigo right then. For making his Neesan look so sad. And more importantly, for the real reason behind it. Now Kon felt he was right back to where he had been before Rukia showed up. Miserable, and disconsolate. Completely dissatisfied with himself. In spite of her pretty much being the single most important person in his world, their relationship was nowhere near as strong as the one she had with Ichigo. Because when you came right down to it, the kid won out by the simple fact that he could lay claim to a living body at any time, while Kon was forced to work with castoffs and loans. Why did it have to be that way? His heart was just as good (if not better) than that punk's! Why did he always get the short end of the stick?

Unnoticed beside his beloved, Kon stewed. It was unfair that he should lose out on a forced technicality! He literally threw himself at her. He boldly expressed his affection, while Ichigo could barely fumble through a sentence regarding Rukia. And yet, no matter what happened, he remained a mod soul. Which meant no real chance at winning her heart. Sure, folks might say it's what's inside that counts. But they never had to deal with a situation like this, now did they? No real body to call his own. And that's the way it would always… always be!

Unless that changed.

It was like something drained out of him then. Not in a bad way; more like a stopper had been pulled, and a wall that previously stood between them dissolved. It left Kon sitting there with Rukia in a sense they hadn't been before. The situation had changed, and the whole world felt different as a result. But did she realize it?

"Neesan… I want a shot."

Rukia looked down at him. "Shot?"

She had no idea how gorgeous she was right then, with the snow falling all around her. He wished to take her hand and lead her off to someplace private where he might let her know the new determination that had awoken inside him. Maybe it was a result of the narrowly averted tragedy today; a combination of his self-reproach at being unable to save Karin on his own and now finding Rukia so close to him and yet still beyond his reach. Whatever the reason, there was no longer any excuse to hold back.

Kon picked himself up, dusting off the snow that had collected on his small form. "A shot at living," he explained. "I don't want to be just a mascot anymore. I want… something real! A body to call my own, and everything that comes with it. Do you know what I mean?"

Her face became troubled. "Kon…"

"You can do that, right?" It felt like whatever constituted his heart was going a mile a minute, faster than his own unsurpassed leg speed. The words came tumbling out as a result. "You've got the authority now. If you really ask, you can get me a gigai all my own! And then I can use it to…"

She was looking at him so intently it almost felt like he was no longer simply a stuffed mascot. At least not in her eyes. Almost as if she was seeing him for all he was worth, all the potential he… or rather, _they_ might have. Right then there could have been no more perfect opportunity to say what really needed to be said.

Instead all his conviction failed him, and he found himself mumbling, "… protect… the people I care about. I mean, you and the girls. Like a real man does!"

Rukia still hadn't spoken. Furious at himself for chickening out, Kon still resolved to try and salvage as much as he could out of this moment. "Neesan, you stood up for me when all this business started. That saved my life. Ichigo might have done the same, but… it was you. Up until now I just did whatever anybody needed from me at the time. And if protecting him and his family is the best I can accomplish for you right now, then I want to be able to put in the most effort I can! But when I'm like this…"

He cast a glance down at his fuzzy tube-sock of a body before resolving to meet her eye with a determined air. "That's just not good enough," Kon declared. "I don't want to be at a disadvantage when it counts. I want to have all the same concerns they do, so that I never miss out on something important. And maybe when it's all over and I'm not needed anymore, there'll be good stuff waiting for me."

Looking back at his own words, it felt like he had managed to convey the gist of his longing without really letting the truth slip. Would that be enough to sway his cool and highly unpredictable Neesan?

"Kuchiki-fukutaichou."

Oh, crud. Looking down, Kon found they had been joined by one of her division flunkies. He was dressed in the same new duds as Rukia, only not as high quality. And he had a face like a brick wall. The one consolation at being interrupted like this was seeing how obviously nervous the guy was to be addressing his superior.

By contrast Lieutenant Kuchiki was cold as ice. "Yes?"

The death god bowed forward. "Ma'am, we've successfully stabilized this final area. No other incantations could be detected. Shall we proceed back?"

She stood up, retrieving her bento and sliding it into a pocket of her coat. "Yes. Inform Soul Society of our progress, then dismantle the barriers. Have hell butterflies readied for our return." Just when Kon thought she had discarded his previous appeal, Rukia looked down at him. "When you get back, take a report to Iemura-san about everything we found here. There's something I have to deal with on my own."

"Yes, fukutaichou," the man bowed once more before hurriedly taking off.

It was a little scary the way she said that, not to mention how she looked right now. When they were alone again, Rukia knelt beside her ardent admirer. She slid one of her gloves back on, mouthing a brief incantation as she did. Immediately blue energy flowed around it, and the familiar symbol of a flame-encased skull appeared on the glove's palm. Rukia regarded him for a while. "You're sure about this, Kon? You won't be able to move around as freely as before. It means a drastic alteration on your part that could take some getting used to."

Untroubled, he regarded her steadily right back. "I know what I want, Neesan." And maybe someday, you will too.

"All right, then. If you're certain." With that she tapped him lightly on the forehead. Immediately the green marble containing his soul emerged from the plushie's mouth. As the doll collapsed she caught him before he could hit the snow. Held securely in her palm, Kon experienced a rush of déjà vu. This was like that very first day together, when all his fears had disappeared at finding himself cradled in this strange young woman's fist. What better way to start anew?

"You'll have to remain in pill form for the trip. Your vessel couldn't come through without time-consuming measures. But even so, it's going to be tricky business from here, make no mistake, Kon."

_'Believe me, I know. But it's worth it, Neesan.'_

"That's decided, then." So saying she slipped him into her pocket and leapt across the park to join her troupe.

* * *

><p>Nanao Ise did not consider herself a prig. She would not balk at anything unclean on principle, nor did she automatically condemn behavior in others that clashed with her own. In fact, she liked to think of herself as a very accommodating individual. One of the benefits of living around a thoroughly hedonistic yet likable man for decades: it tended to rub down any hard edges concerning such behavior. This allowed her to temper what might otherwise be an instinctive need to provoke confrontations.<p>

"Gimme a kish, baby!"

Nanao whirled and slammed a tightly clenched fist into the nose of the drunken slob approaching her. "SHŌ!" she roared at the same time. This added the strength of kidō to an already quite powerful punch, resulting in her tipsy admirer spinning end over end before colliding with a pack of his equally wine-soaked fellows. She then strolled by the large tangle of groaning limbs and spilled fluids with all proper decorum.

Yes, a tempered response. Were it not for her finely honed sense of appropriate behavior, that might have gotten out of hand. They should all take note of her discretion and learn a very valuable life lesson.

_Did you think he was cute? I thought he was cute. Maybe you could nurse him back to health and then the two of you might hit it off?_

Such matters have no bearing on our reason for being here.

_Oh, you always say that! Seriously, one of these days, you're going to find a man, and I'm going to be just thrilled._

Can we discuss this another time, Ureshii?

_Fine. I'll go update my picture collections, then. Maybe I'll run across somebody perfect for you! Say, do you remember that officer from the Fourth people always confused you with? I've got his picture around here somewhere, let me just…_

Nanao tuned out her zanpakutō's latest flight of fancy in favor of locating her target. Fortunately for her he had been in the material plane. A simple casting of Bakudō 58 proved sufficient to pinpoint the person in question somewhere in this spirit hostel. Situated amidst the ruins of an old temple in the jungles of Cambodia, it was a favorite stopover for members of the former Eleventh division. Many a wild and raucous party had been held in these ancient halls of carved stone. The locals avoided it altogether, believing that unhealthy spirits inhabited the former site of worship. Some spoke of viewing strange lights within or catching eerie noises that emanated from that long-forgotten temple. More than a few legends had been born here, the type in which some luckless wanderer stumbles upon a party of demons and is forced to participate in their revelries before being allowed to go free, usually based on his ability to outwit the fiends and thus escape a terrible fate.

Glancing around at the drunken force of death gods, Nanao had to wonder just how much intelligence it would take to outwit these buffoons. She had retired from her position in Soul Society shortly after they managed to codify a new structured hierarchy. Actually, the reincarnated Gotei 7 was as much her doing as anyone else's. She had labored tirelessly to fashion a system that would allow the shattered thirteen divisions to congeal together into an effective force once more. Such an undertaking came naturally to her, and she suspected the captains had been more grateful than they let on to have her skills assisting them in this heavily administrative task. The comprehensive outline she left them in terms of rules pertaining to division of labor, logistics, communication, punishment, inter-squad relations and even academic training was hailed by many as an absolute masterpiece. It worked so well it made the old way of doing things seem positively archaic. The fact that she could produce a system of such caliber in just a few days was taken as further proof of Lieutenant Ise's genius.

Actually, Nanao had been idly designing setups like this for decades. It was a sort of hobby for her. After all, she was not blind to the failings that existed in the Gotei 13 throughout her tenure as a shinigami. Over a century of devoted study on the matter yielded several concepts which seemed so perfectly obvious it surprised her no one had them before. Of course, there was the possibility that someone did indeed put forth such proposals, and been quietly hushed up. That sort of thing happened more often than anyone below officer level might suspect. Which was why she had wisely chosen to keep quiet. And so her meticulously tailored plans remained as nothing more than filler in drawers. On the rare occasion when Nanao went out drinking with her lady friends, she could be goaded into explaining some of her ideas, provided enough alcohol had been consumed. But as with so many great proposals that were revealed through guzzling booze, nothing truly lasting came from it.

Until now. Unfortunately, the results in this case were hardly flattering. Well, Siamese Company was always intended to be a mop-up crew. You needed that sort of thing in any organization. No great expectations.

A body sailed through the air in front of her, followed by a loud chorus of approving cries. The slender bookworm narrowed her eyes against another urge to do violence against the offending parties. Something told her no ideas would be forthcoming from this night's festivities, great or not. Just a lot of killer hangovers. It was rather dispiriting to see all her organizational efforts reduced to nothing thanks to these goons. They could try to act a little less like Tiger Company for her taste. It wouldn't do to have two bunches of destructive morons running about the dimensions.

Still, there was no time to waste attempting to discipline this sorry lot. With her spell still active, Nanao knew exactly where to go. She left the party being held in the sanctum sanctorum and moved through narrow corridors that sported a wealth of carvings. These marks detailed legends and history that predated her own time by centuries. It seemed disgraceful they were only looked upon by happy soused ghosts.

At the very least, though, there seemed to be one other person here not joining in the festivities. When she came upon a small room off to one side, a voice called out to her.

"C'mon in, Nanao-san. My door's always open."

There was, in fact, no door to speak of. The room she stole into was bare, its trappings and furniture having been looted or smashed ages ago. Only moonlight entered in through several narrow windows high up. Such illumination was completely unnecessary for her to determine the room's sole occupant. His powerful aura ensured no one need ever overlook him. Sprawled on his side, her host seemed absorbed in several of the new data pads spread on the floor.

"Yo," he greeted her easily without bothering to rise or look up.

In contrast to this laid-back behavior, the former lieutenant observed all proper protocols. Kneeling down, she inclined her head in greeting. "Abarai-taichou."

Renji Abarai, the captain of Siamese Company, made no further response. He continued to shuffle through the small collection of screens before him, a mighty frown causing the tattoos on his forehead to take on new shapes. Whatever he was reading there was obviously not to his liking. The white haori he wore, a concession to the old ways, was sleeveless in the style once favored by captains like the Sixth and Third. Other than that Renji had seemingly adopted the new uniforms advocated in her prodigious refashioning of shinigami customs. His own was distinguished by a red band that cut down the front. Each new division had their own color.

_It really brings out his hair, don't you think?_

These armored outfits were based on designs once proposed by Captain Kurotsuchi for use by all shinigami. Initially so invasive as to be incapable of removal once put on, the mad scientist had found the time to address those concerns prior to his… disembodiment. The resulting material was extraordinarily durable and lightweight, composed of specially treated _reishi_ that served to protect the body while maintaining a flexibility of movement they were all accustomed to by now. It relied upon the user's own _reiatsu_ to function properly, meaning that the stronger the individual, the more powerful the armor became. Also, spiritual loss to the environment was restrained thanks to the fabric's construction, which prevented any enemies so inclined from leaching off the wearer's own strength. Apparently this was done specifically in the case of combating Quincy, the reason for which was pretty obvious if you knew the creator's history. It was a very impressive and long-overdue concession to the old Gotei 13's embarrassment of a casualty rate. With their numbers reduced, it was only natural that such a modification be included in the refashioning of traditional ways.

Coming back to the present, Nanao resolved not to speak further. Renji seemed absorbed in studying whatever information had been relayed to him. She herself had a pet peeve about being bothered while working. Many was the former subordinate in the Eighth who had been chastised harshly for interrupting her during a marathon paperwork session. Certain important things in life required one's total attention. For this she was willing to wait upon the captain's pleasure until he felt it suitable to begin.

The rugged death god made a disgusted noise through his teeth. He rubbed his neck as if to ease out a kink, then dropped the data pad with an exclamation of disdain. "Dammit, I cannot figure all this crap out!"

His eyes flickered over to her then, and she could read the plea implicit in that look. Without another word Nanano rose and glided forward. She retrieved all the data tablets, nimble fingers gliding over their surfaces to call up the pertinent information. Currently the screens were a jumbled mess, and she applied her skills to discard all irrelevant data and leave only that which was necessary for the obvious business at hand. When this was finished Nanao handed them back to Renji.

He studied the new readouts. "Oh. That actually makes a lot more sense. Haven't lost your touch, I see."

She continued to wait while he read through the reports. Eventually Renji left off his studies and fixed his eyes on her. He looked her up and down closely. Then a small smile curled his lips, making him appear much less imposing than before. "You're looking good, Paper Master. Retirement suits you."

Nanao couldn't help but wonder how many nicknames she had been given throughout the years, the majority of which only seemed to come into play now that she was no longer a lieutenant. Still, that hardly mattered at the moment. "It's about as much work as before," she explained. "I've never lived with an actual family in any capacity up 'til now. The Kurosakis can be nearly as infuriating Captain Kyōraku."

The high-ranking officer nodded in understanding. Then he actually laughed. When she looked at him inquiringly, he responded with, "It's strange talking to you out of uniform. I never knew Lieutenant Nanao Ise to discuss anything other than work. That crazy bunch really has been working their magic on you!"

It was true. In addition, Shunsui had often remonstrated her for being too terse with people. 'All business', he used to state in description of her social skills. Now that she was living on her own, Nanao had decided that was indeed an area of her personality requiring improvement.

And so, having fulfilled all social requirements to her own satisfaction, the sorceress got down to brass tacks. "I'm here to talk to your co-seat."

"Ah," Renji grinned. "That's more like it." He propped himself up to cross his arms over his chest. "I guess this visit has something to do with Hueco Mundo then."

It was rather pleasant to be treated with as much accommodation as he was showing. Not all the captains were so receptive to her entreaties following her decision to leave. A natural craving for knowledge made Nanao ask the next question. "How is the situation over there?"

His eyebrow tattoos were back to wiggling in consternation. "Total mayhem. But that's to be expected with anything concerning Zaraki and the Ele… I mean, the Tigers. Siamese has its hands full just getting anybody to stop swinging long enough to give us a report." His face split in a grin then. "I'm pleased to report that we are considerably more disciplined than that bunch."

There came a loud crash from back down the hall, and what sounded like a bunch of big merry idiots laughing hysterically. Nanao turned back to their commander with one eyebrow raised ever so slightly. She couldn't help noticing that Renji's cheeks were just a bit pink. "RIKICHI!" he shouted loud enough to be heard across the valley. "TELL THOSE IDIOTS TO KEEP IT DOWN!"

"Yes, Captain!" a voice called from out in the hall, followed by the sound of someone scurrying away.

Renji smacked one fist on his knee and ground his teeth, growling like a dog. "I oughtta kill those mooks for making me look stupid!"

Nanao shifted her glasses to hide any irritation. "Taichou, I don't mean to intrude on your command, but is this really the best use of the men's time while you're on furlough? I know how difficult it must be for you all as the liaison between our forces in Soul Society and Hueco Mundo, but still, they seemed nearly as uncontrolled as Tiger Company when I came through."

"It's not that bad!" the young captain insisted in somewhat of a panic, apparently having forgotten their relative positions. He was rushing to explain himself like she still had some measure of authority. Perhaps in his mind she did. "I mean, at least we maintain a sense of… uhh, unit integrity in the field!"

_He's dreamy when he gets flustered. I wonder how he would react if you kissed him right now?_

I am not going to behave like a woman of loose morals, Ureshii Onnanoko. Try and keep that in mind.

His long red cockscomb rustled as Renji's head dropped forward. "You should see things over there, Nanao-san," he spoke softly and in a much more somber mood. "We've witnessed worse stuff being done than I ever thought possible. I don't know if those Vaizard really had a plan on how to handle things going in, but ever since they lost one of their own, they've forgotten everything but fighting. Whenever we go back, it's like whatever we managed to accomplish before has been completely destroyed. Sometimes I think it's not worth bothering at all."

His head came up then. "So yes, I think some actual honest horsing around is just what my men need. Without threats of any kind. They need to remember that they're not considered to be just expendable soldiers anymore. There's life outside the fighting. That was the plan all along, right? I wanna make sure my guys at least never forget that." A faint but certain smile caused his face to lighten. "And you never know. Some amazing things can result from drunken parties."

The expression he wore was far more sober than just a moment ago, reminding Nanao that not only was this man now a captain, but he had willingly taken on what could very well be the most difficult job of them all. That alone spoke volumes for his growth in terms of maturity. It increased the respect she held for Abarai far more than any white robe could ever do. The battlefield hero of the Autumn War had truly come into his own, as a leader of men and as a man himself.

_Nanao, are you blushing?_

What? No! Stop being ridiculous, we're losing track of the conversation. Honestly!

"I respect your reasoning, Abarai-taichou. But back to the matter at hand…"

"Oh, right," he perked up then. "You came to talk with Neliel." His head lifted as though he were reaching out with his senses, though nothing could be discerned through the spiritual avalanche that was his division. It looked like his ears twitched slightly. Then Renji turned back to her and said, "She's up on the roof. Her boys are with her, and they're getting their freak on. You might want to wait until they're finished or they might decide to drag you in on it." He coughed in a somewhat embarrassed manner. "Speaking from experience, mind you."

_What do you think he means by that?_

Whatever it is, we are definitely not getting involved in their debauchery.

_But it could be fun!_

Do you honestly think that would sway me?

_I guess not…_

Very good.

"I see. Thank you for your help, Taichou. I won't keep her long, I just need to ask some questions. " Nanao rose upright, then hesitated. " Is there anything else I can do for you before leaving?"

"Nah, I'm good. But thanks. Come on back anytime, Nanao-san. Don't be a stranger!"

"I appreciate the invitation." Though I can hardly see myself ever taking it up, she added silently.

As she began to rise upwards towards the ceiling, Renji suddenly called out. "Wait, Nanao-san. Just one thing…" When she looked down at him, the captain stirred a little uncomfortably. But his eyes held no doubt when they rose to regard her. "Is it true Rangiku showed up on your turf?"

Her head tilted backwards, and she regarded him from below the rim of her glasses. "It is."

"Hrrm." Abarai Renji reached down to touch the zanpakutō tucked into his sash. "Just don't underestimate her, okay? She's a lot smarter than some people gave her credit for. And a lot stronger too. I think she might have actually been the most powerful out of all the lieutenants before I gained bankai."

"I know," Nanao responded softly. "Thank you."

She didn't really need him to tell her that. Half a hundred dead shinigami would serve as ample warning to just how strong and crafty a person might be. But the sentiment was appreciated. With a final bow she took her leave, floating up to pass through the ceiling and into the open air. The sounds of the festivities below still reached her ears. Added to the din, however, was a noise unlike anything else. Intrigued, Nanao floated gracefully in pursuit of this mystery.

On the highest reaches of the overgrown temple, cracked and weathered stone that had withstood the test of time now found itself being put to a very unorthodox use.

_Wow. Didn't know people could bend that way._

Indeed.

Under the moonlight, a half-naked woman and two scar-faced men in loincloths were engaged in a synchronized dance performance.

It was almost hypnotic in its sheer incongruity and… weirdness. But there was no doubting the talent on display. When their leader whipped her long green hair around and gyrated her hips, both men copied these movements at precisely the same time. Eyes closed, the lead dancer swayed smoothly back and forth. A few feet away a music device suddenly picked up its tempo. For all the world, it sounded like… pop music. The sort commonly preferred in the living world nowadays. The dancers responded in kind, the woman lifting one knee diagonally across her body while putting both hands on the shoulders of the men to either side. Each then dropped down and proceeded to engage in what looked like one-handed push-ups with their legs spread wide apart. A quick reversal of position, and now all three lay on their backs, legs kicking playfully in the air.

All other instruments dropped off until there was only a snare drum for tempo. At this cue the trio then crossed their legs at the knee, one foot wagging in lazy time to that beat. Without warning the instrumental score started up again at which point the dance party bolted upright. They followed one another in a line, taking two steps and halting, bent at the waist with backs curved while their hands spun around one another in circles before flicking off to either side. It oddly reminded Nanao of chickens scratching in the dirt for feed. Yet somehow, they managed to do even this with grace.

A loud burst of sound came, and the men rushed down the roof while their limber leader began performing a set of somersaults and flips in that direction. The speed at which she spun made Ise dizzy just watching. When this world-class gymnast reached a certain point her legs bunched beneath her, and she uncoiled up from a crouched position to go shooting into the sky as though shot from a cannon. Her cohorts positioned themselves below, catching the falling star so that she ended resting on their palms. She flung out her arms, kicked up her heels and struck a pose there on the roof of the temple. The men remained frozen for support.

Right then the music cut off.

Panting, Neliel tu Odelschvank, co-captain of Siamese Squad, took a deep breath and let it out with a laugh. She looked down, finally noticing the silent witness to their performance.

"Oh, hey."

Without any sign of discomfort at being caught in this odd display, the former _Espada_ vaulted down and strode forward. She picked up a tattered white robe off the ground, using it to dry her face off as she approached. "What can I do for you, Nanao-sensei?"

_Do that again! Please tell her to do that again from the beginning!_

Oddly enough the sword's wielder found herself tempted to make the very same request. Instead Nanao took in this woman who exercised near total control over the largest squad of shinigami in existence today. Unlike her troops, Nel did not opt for wearing armor of any kind. Her concessions to dress included a short black sleeveless shirt that left her midriff bare, over which was a dark leather cowboy vest complete with tassels dangling off it. To accentuate the Western motif she also sported a pair of black open-backed chaps on her legs that had as much fringe as anything else. However, in place of pants Nel elected to wear only something that could easily pass for a swimsuit bottom, also in shades of black. What this meant was that when she turned around to instruct her companions they should take a break, Nanao was treated to not only a very close shot of her bare legs, but also the female captain's full posterior. It made her avert her eyes resolutely until the other woman came back around.

"I am… sorry to disturb you, Neliel-taichou, but… that is to say, I would have called ahead, only you weren't…"

Light brown eyes watched her with curiosity as the former _Tercera Espada_ tugged on a battle-worn white robe. This whole affair was making Nanao dreadfully self-conscious. Only a few inches of height separated them, but all the same, she couldn't help feeling… small… compared to Neliel. Of course this had nothing to do with how it looked like the _arrancar_ was smuggling watermelons in her shirt. It was more owing to the powerful aura that surrounded this figure, made all the more unnerving in that it clearly belonged to a Hollow. Positioned on her head was the top of a misshapen skull with horns that curved around themselves in the manner of a ram. A crack along one side spoiled its otherwise perfect symmetry. As the shared leader of Siamese Company, Neliel exercised top control when their party was active in Hueco Mundo. By contrast in Soul Society Renji issued the orders and she obeyed. Command was shared when on Earth. All of which was entirely Nanao's idea. It came to her in a sort of inspiration when she heard rumors that the two of them were seen around town together. This arrangement assuaged certain influential people who had balked at the thought of a Hollow presiding over the affairs of shinigami.

Five months later, Siamese had failed to self-destruct as some predicted. By all accounts it was flourishing. Neliel's friendly personality, her war record, and a certain cult status in terms of fans had helped to ease things along. Nanao felt proud at the part she played in shepherding this powerful soul into their ranks at a time when the shinigami desperately needed every superior fighter they could get. Actually, the then-Second seat of Squad Eight had been instrumental in convincing her fellow officers to give the _Espada_ and her familiars a chance. Before leaving she even took it upon herself to instruct Neliel in what one had to know in order to fit into a shinigami camp. It was, perhaps, a way of assuaging any lingering misgivings Nanao might have felt at leaving her life as a death god behind.

For her part the mercurial Hollow had expressed gratitude for Nanao's diligent instruction. She even referred to her as 'sensei'. Still, the fact that the trio was alone out here on the roof indicated a perfect fraternity had not been formed yet. But if any debt actually existed between them, it was time to collect.

"Neliel-taichou," she began, "I am here to ask about…"

"Do you like my outfit? Renji helped me choose it." Nel placed one hand on her hip and another in her long luxurious hair, the pose showing off her impressive figure for all its worth. "He said it's the latest thing!"

A more bald-faced lie could never be uttered. Nanao seriously considered upbraiding the man over his ludicrous and distinctly perverted fashion sense. Out loud she simply responded, "Yes, it is very flattering. Now, as for why I came to call…"

The captain's head whipped around. "OI, PESCHE! BRING UP THE DISCO SET NEXT! I WANT TO SHAKE MY GROOVE THING IN THE GOLDEN TRIANGLE!"

"Yes, ma'am!" her obedient servant called while conversing with his partner over the music box.

"Sorry about that," Nel apologized as she turned about. "What were you saying?"

Apparently she had picked up a few bad social habits from her new comrades. Resolving not to waste further time, Nanao launched directly into her reason for being here. "I wanted to ask if you could tell me anything about the Wild Hunt."

At those words, the pink war markings across Nel's cheeks bunched in a grimace. The former _Tercera_ glanced down at the ground and began to pace slowly about, one arm draped over her stomach while she stroked her chin in thought. Her face now wore a troubled look. "That figures," she muttered. "Something felt strange in this world as soon as we got here. So they've been through. I should have known this would come back to bite us."

Nanao followed along behind her uncertainly. The _arrancar_ beauty stopped in her tracks to glance back. "Ah. My apologies, Nanao-sensei. I don't mean to act so vague. It's just this is a difficult topic, especially for someone in my position. A matter of conflicting loyalties, you might say. Nothing to be concerned about."

_How is 'conflicting loyalties' not something to be worried about?_

Don't make this any harder than it needs to be!

"I would be most grateful for any insight you can offer me on this matter," Ise stated with deliberate calm. "As you have by now surmised, the Hunt has recently become active again after no small amount of time. Our field research on this particular enemy is spotty at best. We have only conjecture as to its motivations, assuming it has any. I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity you presented before determining what might be our best response."

This explanation apparently did nothing to dispel the misgivings Neliel was obviously experiencing. She looked over at the two unmasked Hollows before speaking. "I don't know how much help I can be. Not that I'm trying to be evasive, mind. I do know a few things about the Hunt that might be useful against it. Only…" Neliel then appeared to size up the woman before her. "You're not thinking of fighting it alone, are you?"

Nanao crossed her arms in emphatic fashion. "Certainly not. I know that it would require a large party of shinigami, preferably led by a captain. My only purpose in being here is to avail myself of any knowledge you possess before someone faces it."

"Hmm." Nel then beckoned off a ways from where her _fracciōn_ still collaborated. Both women drew to the side until they could be assured of some privacy. The turncoat _arrancar_ sat down then, indicating Nanao should do the same. When they were both facing one another, she stated, "By 'someone' do you mean… Ichigo, maybe? No, never mind, I take it back. Maybe we should begin with you telling me what you know about the Hunt."

Nanao found herself immediately warming to the topic of discussion. It reminded her of debates held back in her Academy days. And this was a previously untapped source of information she had here. What a delicious opportunity!

"The Wild Hunt is active mainly at night. They target individuals, and once they catch their prey's scent it is impossible to escape without defeating the Hunt itself. This is highly difficult, as fallen members of the pack can seemingly revive from any injury, no matter how fatal. Some have speculated they are all _vasto lorde_, or even a phenomenon deriving from another plane of existence altogether. To date no confirmation exists either way. The most widely accepted method of victory is to survive until sunrise. After this the Hunt cannot maintain its existence properly and must return to whence they came. The procedure varies if they manifest during daylight hours, which as far as we can tell is not very often."

Nel regarded her with head tilted to one side. She leaned on one arm, wealth of viridian hair sliding off her shoulder in a fall of lustrous silk. "Figures you would be well-informed, _sensei_. By comparison what I have to offer is more folklore than actual battle strategy. Okay, maybe a little beyond that." Then she gave a desultory groan. "Well then, let's get started. And be sure to tell me if I'm only repeating what you're already familiar with. Make yourself comfortable."

With eager goodwill Nanao complied. There was little she loved more than a good story, a passion that harkened back to her younger days. Her rapacious reading habits were a result of this childhood appreciation for storytelling. Dutifully she strove to hide any improper excitement and settled in to listen.

"First off, I have never encountered the Hunt personally. It's a highly mobile entity. Never stays in one place for very long. Usually all you find are its tracks, in the form of inhabited areas you once knew now being reduced to lifeless pits. And in Hueco Mundo, that's not a term to be used lightly. Which is why most Hollows don't bother talking about it or even want to know too much to begin with. Fortunately, Aizen insisted that his Espada be up to date on anything that might concern our welfare. So we all learned a few things; about each other, our potential opponents, and the things considered a little of both. That included the Wild Hunt. Is any of this old news to you?"

Nanao shook her head.

Neliel looked to consider this for a while, then raised a finger before her audience. "Since you're obviously familiar with its habits while hunting in the human world, here's what you might not be aware of. The Wild Hunt is a collection of _Menos Grande_ Hollows, but not just any garden-variety type. In case you didn't know, the Hollows that go into the formation of a _Menos_ tend to be of low power that have scavenged one another in cannibal fashion, in turn growing stronger and eventually forming conglomerations with those of similar bent. That means hundreds or even thousands of weak Hollows are packed into one giant mass which then becomes the standard shape of _Gillian_ you might be familiar with. They're indistinguishable from one another, both in form and mind. Their only saving grace is incredible power, which is why you shinigami normally sent in at least a lieutenant to combat one whenever they showed up in this world."

A burst of music interrupted this recitation. Both women looked over to where Pesche and Dondochakka had taken to arguing over the proper use of the music box. Nanao considered the pair; one lean and ropy, the other squat in a manner reminiscent of a tree stump. They certainly looked like regular souls, especially after having lost the skull masks. However each of them was actually a conglomeration of different entities in the same manner Neliel described. Despite ample evidence of this she found it difficult to believe. But a Hollow hole never lied.

_Where do you suppose hers is located? I still don't see it anywhere._

Nanao chose not to answer, ostensibly because the person in question had resumed speaking.

"After a while there sometimes occurs a reaction within the collective in which a certain powerful spirit begins to assert dominance over the rest of the raging swarm that comprises a Gillian. If this strong soul is able to suppress all the rest, the generic Menos starts to take on distinctive features in response. It regains something resembling a personality, and is able to respond better to its environment, which aids in the survival process. This is the first step towards becoming an adjuchas like me."

"Excuse me," Nanao interrupted while adjusting her glasses, "but I am familiar with the basic evolution methods you are describing."

Nel nodded. "Okay. Then do you know what happens if a Gillian fails to reach adjuchas?"

One eyebrow rose. "Not specifically. Accumulated information is normally more robust regarding successes than failures."

Neliel traced a slow circle on the stone beneath them with her foot, toes sinking through as though it was a mirage. "If the presiding soul, for whatever reason, is unable to maintain its dominance or fails to feed in a manner that would keep its control stable, then it gets absorbed back into the carnivorous collective it came from. And as a result, that _Menos_ will never again be able to establish a dominant personality. The result is that what could once graciously be called a bloodthirsty monster turns into something completely and utterly wild. It's deranged past anything resembling normal behavior for a Hollow, meaning that it never rests, never examines its surroundings for any period of time at all, and never bothers to distinguish one target from the next. It just hunts, constantly, until it either runs low on energy and is scavenged by other Hollows or winds up getting destroyed by a superior opponent. There's simply no other way of dealing with them."

Nanao shivered at the prospect. "I don't remember anything in our records that would indicate what you've described. Other than Fenris…"

"That's because a de-evolved _Menos_ doesn't even have enough awareness left to know how to leave Hueco Mundo," her informant responded. "It's ruled by instinct and is incapable of coordinated behavior. Which is why they usually end up starving in some out-of-the-way corner of our world without anyone on the outside learning they ever existed, especially shinigami."

"Are you saying these failed _Menos_ comprise the Wild Hunt?" A point of contention immediately rose up which she didn't hesitate to voice. "But if they can't leave Hueco Mundo then how do they…?"

"There's a leader," Neliel declared heavily.

They stared at one another for a few seconds. In that time, Nanao's pulse began to beat faster. Excitement gripped her in the face of new evidence pertaining to an ancient mystery. Filled with scholarly zeal, she leaned forward and whispered one word.

"Cernunnos!"

The captain's horned helm nodded in confirmation, while Nanao's eyes practically blazed behind her spectacles. Here at last was the first ever official confirmation of a creature all shinigami knew only by its codename: 'Hunt Master'. Many were the scholarly battles she had observed or taken part in regarding the debate surrounding the Wild Hunt, but no one could ever offer concrete evidence one way or another to support the various theories. Until now.

"What is it?" she demanded.

"I can't tell you. No, not because I don't want to," Neliel hurriedly interjected when she seemed about to protest. Rubbing her stomach absently and fingering the dangling strips of leather there, the Hollow resumed with explanations. "No one can say what it really is. Cernunnos is a title we gave to something we don't understand but still fear. Eventually the word traveled into the legends of humans, which is how you know of it. The Horned One might be a rank among the Wild Hunt. This indicates a level of sophistication that should be impossible for their breed. But Cernunnos does exist, of that you can be certain. It's the proverbial stag that runs at the head of the pack, heightening their bloodlust and leading them where they are supposed to go. Different members have worn the crown of antlers. Aizen postulated that Cernunnos is as much prey as it is their leader, because evidence exists that its identity has changed several times throughout the ages. Our legends hint to a transferal of power. The old leader is brought down by a stronger contender, and as a result this new champion assumes the mantle of authority, gaining its clarity and the ability to lead the rest."

Nanao frowned, placing a hand to her chin in thought. "So they can be killed for sure." An idea occurred to her and she looked up sharply. "Have any Hollows ever attempted to destroy the Hunt? For self-preservation, I mean."

"They would have as much trouble finding it as killing it," Neliel replied, gazing distractedly at Ise's fingers. "The Wild Hunt was rumored to live somewhere in the heart of Hueco Mundo. What we refer to simply as 'the dead zone'. This is the same place where our so-called king, Barragan Luisenbarn, held his court for several centuries. Since normal Hollows can't survive in the conditions inside the dead zone, hardly anyone even knew he existed."

Nanao rifled through her memory. "Luisenbarn… the _Segunda Espada_ during the War, correct?"

"That's him. Anyway, Aizen suspected that Barragan actually controlled the Wild Hunt to some extent, because he was the sort of overbearing despot who insisted that everybody he was aware of bow down and kiss his bony rump. He wouldn't let anyone off the hook in that respect, not even the Wild Hunt. So if they were neighbors, Aizen felt it was guaranteed the two were affiliated, or at least more aware of each other than anybody else could lay claim to."

She broke away from staring, beautiful eyes lingering on the dark jungle flourishing around them, seemingly lost in memories. Feeling like an eager child being told a story by her cherished elder again, Nanao strove to contain her impatience. "And?"

Neliel came out of her trance with a slight jerk. "And he was right. We learned that the Hunt did indeed serve King Chicken-Bone. They were his most dangerous weapon. Unfortunately, not much else is known about the Wild Hunt. Certainly nobody we asked had ever spoken to Cernunnos. Although about a year prior to Aizen's official ascension over us, they were sent out into the world with a mission to exterminate the Archers."

"You mean Quincy?" Nanao gave a sudden start. "Ah! That's right! The last recorded appearance of the Wild Hunt was when they massacred a large portion of the Quincy hierarchy! Soul Society sent a response team led by two captains to face it. The force was nearly wiped out, but the Hunt was apparently driven off thanks to their intervention."

Neliel chewed her lip, apparently unimpressed to learn of this. "I suppose. Anyway, right after that and before Aizen took power, when Barragan realized he couldn't stand up to him, it was rumored he took steps to minimize the gain his hated enemy would make from assimilating his whole army. If the rumors can be believed, Barragan supposedly sealed the Wild Hunt away in a secret place only he knew about. And there they remained, lost to all memory but his."

"That would explain why nobody has seen the Hunt in over thirty years," Nanao pondered aloud, another puzzle finally being brought to light. "This Segunda didn't want Aizen to gain its strength. He must have planned to release it when a chance presented to rise in rebellion. Only then…" A shiver stole up her spine as a thought came unbidden.

"Exactly. Since Barragan was himself imprisoned in Nirvana along with Aizen, he never had the opportunity to unleash the Hunt. By all accounts they should still be locked up in whatever cage he made for them." The fallen soul shifted in her seat and fixed the other woman with a fierce gaze. "But now according to you they have been set loose. Which could be an indication of something much worse than just the Hunt."

Nanao slid the glasses up her nose with one finger to hide any sign of discomfort. Neliel clearly did not lack in terms of mental acumen to have deduced the real reason behind her worry. She was right. If the Hunt had not only been located, but also freed, this could imply that someone had been entrusted with the required information necessary to do all that. Meaning contact with the denizens of Nirvana had somehow been established. And that was a best-case scenario. In the worst, their greatest nightmare had happened: Nirvana was open again, allowing the ones trapped inside to roam free.

Unless someone stumbled on the Wild Hunt by chance. Someone who also had the power to break their bindings. The odds of that happening were not good. More information was what they needed here, but it might already be too late.

A niggling question that had been bothering Nanao chose that moment to make itself known. "Neliel-taichou, if I may ask… how exactly did you learn all this?"

Odelschvank had become absorbed in seemingly playing with her tassels again. "Hm? Oh, Ichimaru got it out of Barragan's servants."

Nanao's eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. "He tortured them?"

"Not exactly." Those sympathetic features were lost again. A dreamy smile curved her lips. "Gin always said information extracted through pain was unreliable. After the shinigami took charge, he made it his duty to learn everything they needed to know. He did this by… interrogating… certain members of Barragan's court."

Nel scooted a little closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. Nanao strove to suppress any lingering instinct to shrink back. But while she told herself this particular Hollow was entirely different from others of her breed, something about the way the woman looked right now served as a reminder that there still remained a good deal of the soul-eater in her.

"What he did was, first he bound them with a shinigami spell so that they couldn't move or speak. Then he put them together in a room. Once he had his audience, Gin brought in some flunky nobody knew. And _that's_ the one he tortured. He asked it questions while he did this so that the others could hear. Gin promised to let the little Hollow go if it answered truthfully. But since it didn't know anything it couldn't answer them, and he kept right on torturing it. In front of the others, so they could all see. And hear. And smell. When it was over, he got another one, and he put it through entirely different torments. And then…"

Her eyes were boring into Nanao at this point. There was a hungry look on that lovely face the shinigami did not like. One hand hovered near the sleeve where Ureshii Onnanoko remained tucked away in case of emergencies.

Nel licked her lips before proceeding. "He informed all the bound Hollows that he was going to do the same thing to each of them. And once he started on the first, he wouldn't stop for any of the others, even if they told him what he wanted. The only way to escape was for the first one he approached to immediately divulge all information regarding his questions. The rest would be allowed to live as a result, but they still had to talk. After that he had them put into separate cells far removed from each other. He waited an hour. Then he walked into one of the cells. I think he picked it at random. But as soon as Gin opened the door, the guy inside started screaming out all his secrets!"

It was a tad disturbing how fondly Neliel seemed to be reliving these moments. As for Nanao, she was no longer enjoying this recitation, on any level. The one telling the story didn't seem to take note of her discomfort.

"He visited the others, and they confessed too. Because of this we learned a great deal about the Wild Hunt. In addition, none of Barragan's men ever knew if they were the one who broke first. That way they lost all confidence in one another, and themselves. Killed two birds with one stone, Gin said. Aizen was very pleased."

"I… see," the slender spirit swallowed against an involuntary urge to gag. She stood up quickly. The Hollow's bright eyes followed her every movement with a predator's intensity. "I must be going now. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Neliel-taichou. I'm grateful for all the help you have so kindly extended. We should confer like this again in the future."

_I'm not sure one of you is going to have a future, considering the way she's eyeing us._

Nel suddenly rose and stepped forward to grasp Nanao's face with both hands. Fingers slid into her coal-black hair. Startled, the smaller woman was much too shocked to do anything as the Hollow leaned close. Her eyes shut as she inhaled deeply before letting it out with a heavy sigh.

_"God_, you smell delicious," Nel murmured.

_Nanao? Draw me. Quick!_

Before her mistress could decide on whether this action might be prudent, the reformed arrancar took a step back. She wore a crestfallen expression like a child who had just been told there would be no dessert this evening.

"You shinigami have it made," Nel said while inspecting her anxious colleague from top to bottom. "When you get hungry, you just hang out in Soul Society for a little bit or grab something to eat. With us it's different. After a while, we have to eat someone. Hollow, shinigami, or plus. And since I threw in my lot with you guys, all that leaves are Hollows." Her eyes drifted over to where Pesche and Dondochakka waited patiently. "Being around all these death gods makes me so ravenous sometimes, it's all I can do not to eat my boys. Makes me wish I was _vasto lorde_. They don't have to feed unless they want to."

"That sounds… difficult," Nanao finished awkwardly while shivers traveled up her spine.

"It is." Captain Odelschvank flashed her a wink. "But I get better every day." Her face then split in a warm smile. "I've enjoyed chatting with you, Nanao-sensei. We should get together more often. You're very good company."

"I would like that," Ise found herself saying, then wondered where such a response had come from. Clearly it was time to leave before anything truly regrettable happened. "If you will excuse me now, Taichou."

Neliel nodded. "Bye."

Nanao took off like a shot, disappearing towards the first fingers of dawn. Behind her, Nel went back to her longtime companions with a distinctly heavy heart and grumbling stomach. To dispel this malaise, she resolved to dance until she dropped from exhaustion.

As the sounds of swinging 70's music reverberated over the East Asian landscape, Renji Abarai settled back on one hand, considering. He had heard everything that went on overhead with perfect clarity. Ears like a dog, after all. It was just a bit alarming for a while there when Neliel was talking about her hunger. He had been ready to rush up in Nanao's defense should the need arise. It was not always easy sharing command with a Hollow, even one as thoroughly likeable as Nel Tu.

Rather than dwell on this issue, he chose instead to consider what the matter of the Wild Hunt might mean for the Kurosaki family. And those who held an interest in them.

* * *

><p>Had anyone been present to see his current position, Noboru Kouki might have looked to be in trouble.<p>

The boy was currently flat on his belly all the way out on a large branch that grew from the side of a cliff in the Peruvian Andes. This precarious position was in no way reflected in his bearing, which was loose and completely relaxed. Dressed in a red and white basketball jersey and baggy trousers that cut off mid-calf, the barefoot youth defied appearances by being perfectly at ease despite hanging over a thousand-meter drop. His shaggy black hair was roughly cut and kept falling into his eyes which lent him a wild appearance. Nut-brown skin gleamed a healthy shade in spite of his somewhat skinny frame. The wind at this altitude seemed to offer him no trouble, especially with the sun out on such a beautiful day.

At the present time Noboru was lazily swishing a long stalk of grass over a clutch of young falcons in their nest. Summer in the tropics meant lots of animals to play with. The newborns conceived in spring had lost their clumsiness and could employ virtually all the skills of their elders. Plus they were much more curious, not to mention willing to play. These young hunters focused attentively on his teasing lure, their sharp black eyes following its movements. Sometimes they snapped at it with prepubescent beaks, causing him to yank the stalk back with a grin.

The game kept them all occupied while their mother watched from her place in the nest. Noboru had made friends with the gyrfalcon who called this spot her home a year past. He named her Pluma, and they were close companions . A large and fierce bird, not native to this region, he suspected she had escaped from captivity in a nearby city. Now they were neighbors and he came out to visit her at least once a day. The eggs were safe this high from any who might do them harm save for the odd scavenging buzzard. When it suited him Noboru would defend the nest while Pluma went hunting. Sometimes he would sit and watch as the majestic predator soared and swooped through the sky, riding motionless on currents of air and occasionally flapping with powerful strokes. It made him wish he had wings, just to know how it felt to wield such mighty pinions against gravity itself.

His gaze drifted away, almost allowing the chicks to snatch their bobbing target. Some mountain climbers were attempting the dangerous northern face of Siula Grande off to the west. From here they were just tiny colored specks. He waved at them, though they couldn't see, and anyway it would have been foolhardy to break their concentration on that dangerous ascent.

Noboru let his hand drop. He should have been content, way up high and with the Andes spreading out in eternal splendor below him. But for the last hour he had been bothered by the impression someone was watching him. This hardly carried the same clear presentiment of danger from a week back. That had been so strong it forced him to go into hiding among the catacombs. He only recently come out, bored, restless and eager to see how things were proceeding or whether the threat had passed.

This was different, though. More like something trying to hide itself around him. It left the solitary youth feeling edgy.

"Do you sense it too, Pluma?" he whispered. In response the young mother cocked her head at him and quorked helpfully, indicating she did not. She then went about preening some ruffled feathers while her brood nuzzled each other in small displays of dominance.

Noboru stood up, considering. Maybe it was time to head back into town, lose himself in the hustle and bustle of the provincial capital Tingo María. Anyone who could successfully track and evade him out here was bound to be trouble. He could have sought his underground refuge again, but immediately rejected that option. I just came out! A little paranoia; maybe that's all this is.

Whatever the truth, it was time to seek a different locale. Sticking the stem of grass in his mouth he turned his face to the sun, glorying in it for a few moments longer. He then looked back to the small family of falcons. _"Adios, madre del viento,"_ the boy stated in preparation of departure. "Wish me luck, eh?"

Pluma continued her ministrations without further notice of him.

"Some friend you are," he teased.

_Well, let's go._ With that he swung off his perch and sprang nimbly down the snow-swept mountainside.

Farther up the cliff, a small form rose from her hiding place. She held the broken branch from a bush to offer token concealment. Without losing sight of her fleeing quarry the spy tapped a signal into the communicator on her wrist and spoke two words:

"Located Masahiko."

Then Ururu crept forth to continue her surveillance.

* * *

><p>Writing at her desk, Soifon paused upon feeling a sense of incoming orders. Moments later this was confirmed when a Hell Butterfly flapped through her window. The captain raised her wrist and allowed it to alight there. Instantly its message came through.<p>

_"Masahiko's been found."_

Finally.

For months she had awaited this confirmation, learning as much about her target as Lady Yoruichi would allow. She knew exactly what methods to use. At last the time to act was here. Thus the diligent squad leader rose and prepared to depart. At a wave of her hand a flock of Hell Butterflies sprang forth, their messages prerecorded and ready to be imparted as they flapped to their destinations. On the desk she left a tiny figurine in the shape of a black cat. Her lieutenant would recognize this symbol and act accordingly. Certain clandestine messages would be left for the others obedient to her will. Her departure was as thoroughly planned as possible.

One quick burst of shunpō later and the captain stood on the roof of a building in the Seireitei beside Chōjirō Sasakibe. They exchanged a glance before both took off towards a gate to the living realm, all in service to the Shihoin clan.

* * *

><p><em>'Neesan, please don't…'<em>

"It'll be all right," she assured him calmly. "Trust me."

He had very little choice in the matter. But whatever confidence in the world he possessed came from Rukia. Still, this was asking a lot, even from her.

Kon had come home.

The Shinigami Research and Development Institute loomed before them, a sprawling white-washed estate that gave no outward hint of the fiendish debauchery that went on within. It left the disembodied mod soul feeling as though he was standing before the gates to Hell. 'Abandon all hope' should have been written above the doors, which themselves were intimidating just by being so enormous. There was something grand and imperial about the place, as if they were about to set foot inside the Forbidden City.

An apt analogy. There could be absolutely nowhere more foreboding in existence than this insidious complex. Kon had been born here. And it was here he almost died. What in the world could have possessed his Neesan to bring him to the Institute of all places? She must have no idea what went on within. Only this could explain how she could so casually ring the bell like that.

As he was busy pondering, a large eye opened in the door and looked at them. "Who goes there?" a high-pitched voice intoned.

_-NEE-SAAAAAAN!-_

"You'll be fine," Rukia sought to assure him. "Let me deal with this."

"Who is it?" the voice continued crossly while that massive orb swiveled as though in concentration. "Speak up now, what do you… want…"

Inside the great black hole of its pupil could now clearly be seen a reflection of Rukia, and at this all words trailed off. "Ah… uh…"

The tiny shinigami stood before that ocular gatekeeper, one hand resting on the hilt of her soul cutter. She looked absolutely fearless and just a touch angry. Her very stance lent the impression that whoever stood behind this door was about to get their ass thoroughly kicked. "I am Rukia of the House of Kuchiki, and I wish to speak with your superior."

As if on cue the voice dropped several octaves in pitch and subservience. "Of course, Ojousama. Please enter and be welcome! Someone will be along to assist you momentarily."

A crack appeared down the portal and both sides split apart, allowing them entry. Meanwhile Kon marveled at the sight of his Neeesan asserting her authority. Now that's what I'm talking about! Show 'em who's boss, Rukia!

Once the door had opened fully the diminutive lieutenant swept in without hesitation. As soon as she was inside it shut behind her. Expecting to find themselves before a darkened corridor lined with torches, Kon was surprised to note the interior appeared well-lit and held nothing of particular menace. The entryway branched off in service corridors to the left and right while the main hall spread out before them.

No one was in evidence. Tucked safely in a pocket of her uniform, Kon took the chance to observe. He had never been this way before. His experience with anywhere outside the labs was brief, having been smuggled out a side door and clandestinely shipped to the living world. His senses as a pill were actually not limited by the demands of a body, meaning he had a full range of vision in all directions. This was in no way disconcerting. It was his natural means of environment surveillance. And best of all, he could inform Rukia if anyone was trying to sneak up on her from behind, above or below. In this place, the more aware you were the better.

"Ojousama!"

A short dark-haired girl with glasses and pigtails came jogging down the lane towards them. Her expression appeared quite chipper, not to mention she was rather cute. All this led Kon to wonder whether or not the place had undergone some major remodeling since his creation.

The girl had caught up to them by this point. Dressed in a white lab smock that reached to her knees, she offered a humble bow and came up smiling happily. "Sorry for the bother! Hyousu was on visitor monitoring today, he gets so fussy in between meals. No discourtesy was intended, and I humbly apologize on his behalf. Had we only known you were coming..."

"No matter," Rukia intoned as she swept on by. Her tone was all business, and the girl had to jog to catch up. "My visit was entirely unplanned. I hope this in no way causes the staff inconvenience."

"Oh, we always have time for you, ma'am!" the kid smiled while cleaning off her glasses. Replacing them back on her face, she was off again. "Akon said to take you to the Observation Gallery. He should be with us momentarily, busy conferring with the boss right now. She's at work on… well, you know."

"Yes, I understand."

I don't, Kon thought to himself. Who were they talking about? Could a woman be running this place now? Wasn't Sandal-Hat supposed to be in charge now? And why was everybody acting so courteous to Rukia? Sure, she was a lieutenant, but the R&D Institute was kind of like its own little fiefdom, removed from the regular hierarchy of the Gotei 13… or 7 now; that was going to take some getting used to.

The girl kept up a line of chatter the whole journey, while Rukia responded in civil terms until they reached their destination. This was more like Kon remembered: dark with muted glows from computer screens and devices. The Observation Gallery turned out to be somewhat misleading in title. There were banks of monitors attended by peculiar characters in white lab coats. But this was only part of the layout, which also included huge transparent bubbles submerged in the walls and floors. Within these containers were rooms, each housing some type of ongoing experiment from what he could tell. Kon saw everything from living Hollows being dissected to grotesque horrors right out of the most obscene science fiction. There were pyrotechnic displays so powerful they looked like miniature suns under glass, creatures that flowed from solid to liquid to gaseous while retaining their outlines, and even what appeared to be some people peacefully sleeping while their dreams were broadcasted and analyzed.

At random intervals, though, the rooms would change, those on the walls sliding off to one side as though on a turntable and the floor varieties flipping around like a pancake, only to bring some new experiment into view. Several of the lab's denizens gathered around these displays or congregated on floating platforms, scribbling notes and commenting to one another on what they considered relevant. It reminded Kon of car shows with the models on their revolving platforms being ogled by passing buyers. I wonder if I was ever put on display during development like this?

While the lab's residents seemed unfazed at being surrounded by weird abominations on all sides, when Rukia came in heads turned. Kon could hear them whispering, and his perplexity only grew. "The Patroness!" they gasped to one another. And, "The Patroness is here!" Things were getting downright eerie. How did Neesan fit into all this?

She spoke briefly to the girl, whose name turned out to be Anzu. Their chirpy guide tapped the floor, and a chair sprang up out of nowhere. She gestured for Rukia to be seated. Once this was done, Anzu promised to go check on Akon before skipping away. That left them alone with the other interested academics, many of whom looked freaky enough to qualify for being on display themselves.

"Was this a scheduled visit? I would have prepared something she'd definitely like!"

"Maybe she would be interested in my proposals, I should go and…"

"Don't! The boss gave strict instructions not to approach her for anything unapproved!"

"Refreshments. We need refreshments. Where's Rin? He usually has some snacks squirreled away. Somebody go find Rin!"

Rukia didn't appear troubled to be the center of so much attention. She simply sat there, eyes lowered and chin lifted proudly. It was like she was pulling an impersonation of her icy older brother. If so, she had the attitude down pat. When one of the scientists approached her with an offer of a steaming cup of tea, she took it with a nod and then went back to waiting patiently.

For his part, Kon remained worried. If these freaks all ganged up on her, Neesan would be overwhelmed. And nobody knew precisely they were here. Had he realized this was where Rukia intended to bring him, he would have kept his mouth shut and never brought up the topic of a body. Some things just weren't worth it.

Right then a door down the way slid open, and a dour-looking guy with bed hair and horns sticking out of his forehead joined the party. He loped briskly towards them. Rukia rose at his approach, both nodding in greeting.

"Rukia-sama," the new fellow sighed while giving a smile that served to make him look even more devilish.

"Akon-san," she responded. "Thank you for seeing me on short notice."

"I'm glad to be of service." Akon didn't look particularly thrilled when he said that, but neither did he seem peeved. Just kind of… unimpressed was the best word. Like he was only waiting patiently in the wings until someone told him it was his time to take the stage of life. "Would this be about the dimensional landscape undertaking? If so I'm pleased to report we have had great success in carrying out trials, thanks in part to the research data supplied by your family's effort. In less than a month we should have a fully functional and stable housing model for those people currently residing in Halos 5 and 6. We're calling it Tir Na Nog this time."

"That is welcome news, but not the reason for my being here. A friend of mine is in need of a gigai made expressly for him." Without further ado she reached into her sleeve pocket and withdrew Kon's shell. He cringed inwardly when horn-boy bent in to get a closer look, even more so as there seemed to have gathered a large crowd around them now. Everybody wanted to get a peek at what their 'Patroness' had brought them. It made him sweat figuratively inside his candy-pill housing. Some of these faces were actually familiar, and not in a good way.

"May I?" Akon inquired as he held out his hand.

_-Neesan, I don't like this-_

She didn't respond out loud, only looked down and offered him a warm smile that seemed to say, 'Have no fear'. It served to help his nerves. A little. They really did seem to only be interested in pleasing her. That meant well for him. All the same, when Rukia reached out and deposited him in Akon's palm, the loss of contact left Kon chilled. She could no longer hear him. And this guy could. He therefore resolved to clam up for the time being.

Meanwhile Akon had taken to inspecting him closely. Another fellow whose face looked as though he were either deliriously happy or suffering from raging hemorrhoids leaned in so close his fetid breath washed over Kon. "Well, that's definitely one of our _gikongan_," Mr. Happy-Meal declared. "Quality workmanship, excellent ease and entry." He shook his head and looked around. "I'm having a bit of trouble confirming its parameters. Is anybody else noticing the same?"

A big hairless frog in a white coat ambled up. Lacking lips or eyelids, he looked as though someone had purposely left out half the facial features normally attributed to a human. This was made even more evident when he spun a crank on his head, causing one eye to extend out on its stalk and hover right over Kon. "You're looking at this all wrong, you porridge-head," the blob proclaimed pompously while sucking on his exposed teeth. "Its parameters are off because this is a mod soul!"

That revelation ratcheted up a storm of conversations. Cries of "Oh my goodness!" and "Really? Really?" now filled the air. Several more people attempted to poke and prod Kon but were thwarted by Akon, who moved with surprising grace and speed to avoid these efforts while lifting his curious features back to Rukia. "Is that the way of it, Kuchiki-sama?"

"It is. His name is Kaizō Konpaku, or Kon for short. I would like assistance in seeing him ensconced inside a suitable vessel for his continued benefit."

The two of them stood at the center of that feeding frenzy of academic interest. At last Akon's brow furrowed in clear distress. "You know we're still in your debt. But I'm afraid the decision is simply not mine to make. On this matter I am obliged to bring it up with the boss."

Rukia nodded. "Then please lead the way."

At a gesture from Akon the mob parted to give them room. With him in the lead they then moved back the way he first came. Kon was finding it just a little discomfiting, but his new handler did nothing that might be considered threatening. He led them along a plain corridor without any attempt at small talk or bothering to recognize the environment. For his part, Kon was having some difficulty mapping the layout ahead. It was almost like the lane before them changed imperceptibly whenever they drew close. A slight shifting in perception that registered only briefly before reverting back to normal. He began to wonder if they were passing through some kind of checkpoints, and Akon's presence was the only thing unlocking the way before them. Best not to think about what might happen if they didn't have a guide.

This hunch became more plausible when the end of the hallway appeared when previously he was certain a long stretch of corridor remained. Behind them Rukia was taking all this in stride. Clearly this was not her first visit here. Just how strong was the Kuchiki family influence if even the R&D bozos kowtowed to them? Money might not buy happiness, but it certainly got people's attention real quick.

When he was a few yards away Akon slipped a hand into his coat to reemerge with what looked to be a small flashlight. He held it up, and right at that moment another eye opened in the door. Again? Its slit pupil flared red with a destructive force Kon could practically feel. Quick as a flash the scientist shinigami flicked on the device, and a burst of bright blue light illuminated them all.

The warding eye blinked, its power seemingly disrupted as a result. No further signs of attack came from it. Akon continued to apply the flashlight on an off in a complicated pattern, causing the doorkeeper to blink in response. All the while their party drew ever closer until at last they stood in front of the portal. Its guardian had gone back to sleep. Seriously, what is it with these guys and ocular fixation? You'd think they felt someone was always watching them. Maybe it was a theme. Kon wondered at all the security in this place. Was it to keep someone from breaking in, or to deal with some_thing_ that might break out?

The door rose upwards with a low rumble. At last they found themselves in the office of the Chief of the R&D Institute.

"The boss will be with us shortly," their dead-eyed guide informed them. "A meeting with the captain of Heron, as you're no doubt aware."

Rukia nodded in understanding. Meanwhile Kon was busily sniffing out their new setting. The place was oddly bare, as though the person who worked here had absolutely no sense of personal décor. Every available surface was the same yellow metallic color too. If he didn't know better he would have sworn the office was gold-plated. But that was too crazy to believe, even in this madhouse.

Without warning a hole opened up in the floor close by the desk. Blue light came from it, and Kon could feel something rising up from below. Akon turned at this while still holding onto him. "Ah, there we go. That took less time than I thought."

Kon had been expecting Urahara, or maybe one of his little helpers.

Instead it was Death herself who rose before them, and Kon couldn't help himself. He screamed.

_-Ne… Ne-sa…!-_

That was as far as he got before green eyes focused on him, cutting off all attempts at speech. They were exactly the same… exactly the same as he remembered them. Worse than the Dragon Lady, so much worse. No warmth, no life. The eyes of a mechanically efficient killer. Reach in. Pluck out a helpless mod soul. Take it away to be incinerated. The rest got to listen to pleading screams only they could hear. Until it was their turn. She was always there. Watching them with those flat uncaring green eyes.

His Death looked upon Kon, and lunged for him.

_-NEE-SAN!-_

A shriek torn from the bottom of his soul. She couldn't have heard him. All the same, just as Death's fingers were about to close over him Rukia intervened, slapping the shocked Akon's palm away and snatching Kon out of the air a split-second before the murderous demon's hand clamped down over her own.

The two women stood face-to-face in that gilded hall, staring one another down while the target of their confrontation sobbed gratefully between them. So fast. His Death had moved so fast, the only reason Neesan had been able to reach him first was because she was standing much closer. Otherwise he might already be…

"Nemu-fukutaichou," Rukia winced against what felt like a vise around her fingers. "What is the meaning of this assault?"

Nemu Kurotsuchi stared at her for a while longer, then looked at their conjoined fists. "This is an aberrant product. It was scheduled for termination years ago. I must carry the decree out."

The other officer shook her head slowly. "I cannot allow that."

The determination in her voice was enough to send a chill through Kon's heart. This did not seem to impress his Death. "Mayuri-sama gave the order. I must carry out its execution."

"He belongs to me, Lieutenant Kurotsuchi."

Kon would have cheered to hear Rukia refer to him so possessively under any other circumstances. Right now, though, his guardian angel was facing down the mother of all his nightmares. Terror and worry were the only things he felt.

Rukia Kuchiki's eyes narrowed while her arm began to shake, smoke almost seeming to rise from their clasped fists. "I am your Patroness. It is only thanks to me that this Institute can still operate while lacking a captain without supervisory oversight from the other squad leaders. If you insist on destroying this mod soul, I will have no choice but to withdraw my support. Which means you will lose your autonomy, and everything within this building will come under someone else's jurisdiction. That includes the remains of Mayuri Kurotsuchi!"

Death didn't so much as blink.

"Boss," Akon coughed, edging towards the struggling maidens cautiously. "If I may, we both know Captain Kurotsuchi ordered the mod souls' termination only under duress from the Council of 46. Given the choice I think you know he would have rather kept them. That's why no real inquest was made when one was reported missing. In a sense, to let this prodigal mod live would be honoring Mayuri-sama's wishes." When this provoked no reaction in their standoff, he leaned closer and added, "I also don't believe the lady's captain would appreciate your mishandling her lieutenant."

Her face showed no sign at being swayed by any of these arguments. Still, Kon got the distinct impression a debate of some kind was taking place behind that death-mask. In spite of this he had to make something clear.

_-Neesan… I don't want you to get hurt. Please, no matter what she does to me, you can't fight her! She's too strong.-_

_So are we, Big Shot. Now cork it!_

Huh? Who the heck…?

Too surprised to even feel scared, Kon felt the pressure being exerted on him slacken. He then realized that Death had stepped back and now stood regarding them.

"I will respect the spirit of Mayuri-sama's wishes, if not the letter. That is my choice," she declared heavily. The purple-haired angel of hell bowed her head forward towards Rukia. "Kuchiki-ojousama, I bid you welcome to our facility. How may we be of service to you today?"

Rukia slipped back a few strands of hair that had come loose in the struggle. Once her appearance was neat and tidy, she glanced between the two souls critically. "You can start by providing this mod soul with a vessel to inhabit while we converse. I would like for him to be able to participate in our activities fully."

Death seemed to consider this. "I will arrange for something appropriate, though nothing that could be misused. That is a condition I must insist upon while it remains inside these walls. A Mini-Mu should be sufficient."

The shinigami lady smiled in a very unpleasant way. "Whatever you think is best. Now, let us proceed."

Kon had a very bad feeling about this.

* * *

><p>The marketplace of Tingo María proved to be just as vibrant and thriving as one could hope for. Tourists and locals alike browsed through the wares on display in search of something that struck their fancy. Exotic animals both alive and dead were for sale alongside crafts that purported to be authentic local goods whether in truth or not. This flat city nestled between mountains and jungle, taking advantage of both to ensure its prosperity. The Amazon rainforest to the east, Andes to the west. It was a settlement of modest size boasting a variety of elements both good and bad. Illegal smuggling could be conducted through the right channels along with a flourishing stopover in the drug trade. In contrast the city officials worked desperately to provide entertainments and protection for the well-heeled foreigners eager to spend a lot or a little. All done in the name of Tingo María's continued security. It was a perfect place to get lost in if one wanted.<p>

In spite of this, Noboru's bad feeling had not gone away.

The boy sat amidst a gaggle of street youths very similar to him in appearance. Few of them wore shoes and most suffered from a marked disassociation with personal hygiene. While to all outward appearances he belonged here, those in the know could tell his presence was foreign to the social dynamic. The other children spared him not a glance nor sought to include him in their games, which suited Noboru just fine. He preferred to remain on the outskirts of any activity so as not to draw attention to himself.

Several of the children amused themselves kicking around a ball that was as badly in need of repair as their own grimy wardrobes. Girls participated as eagerly as boys, while those not so inclined hung around the market stalls, ever alert for a chance to swipe something or take advantage of a luckless tourist. The police in these parts would chase them off if so requested, but for the main they would rather not waste time on the prolific indigents. It was actually the city's preferred means of social welfare, letting street hooligans fend for themselves as best they could, so long as no one got hurt. At night they went back to their families or whatever served as such only to return the next day and start the cycle anew.

Noboru paid attention to everything going on around him while projecting an outward air of nonchalance. He made no attempt to distinguish himself, and was rewarded with being practically invisible to anyone concerned. It was something he had practiced in order to be quite good at.

Unfortunately, lurking like this remained highly boring.

The colorful environment, the crowds all struggling and sweating to push their way through, the bright and heady summer day; it all served to leave him hungry for a way to really participate. There was nothing truly holding him back. Even the actual sense of being spied upon had vanished sometime earlier without his knowledge. Which could mean it had all been his imagination. At the same time, Noboru misliked the idea that someone might be toying with him. His suspicions, real or imagined, served to keep him on edge. And so, frustrated and left with nothing else to do, he sat off by himself chewing a spent lollipop stick.

"Fabiola, don't touch that! You'll dirty your uniform."

"Yes, Miss Roberta."

His ears perked up. The sound of that conversation cut through the din surrounding this market the way only something of personal interest could. Noboru felt his hands twitch in anticipation. _Oh, no, don't go there. You know you shouldn't!_

"Honestly, try and keep up, Fabiola! Don't go wandering off on your own, the master and I can't be bothered to search for you. This is a dangerous, messy city and not to be taken lightly. Fabiola, what did I just say!"

"Don't go wandering off, Miss Roberta… and the city is a mess."

"Good. I'm glad to see you're paying attention. Master, forgive the bother. We are right behind."

I just can't help it. This sounds too good to resist!

Noboru got up and drifted through the crowd in search of his new diversion. Finally, a safe way to blow off some steam! Few things were as fun as teasing the bossy ones.

And then he saw them. In the lead came an older gentleman dressed with expensive taste. He wore a tailored pinstripe navy suit and gloves even in this heat, with dark sunglasses and an English bowler hat of all things. In one hand was gripped an ivory-handled walking stick. The silver-haired sophisticate had a neatly trimmed moustache, and he walked with a sort of stiff-legged exuberance as if eager to be on his way. A black umbrella held over his head served to ward off the heat to some extent. Nevertheless there was sweat pouring down his face that he wiped away with a crimson kerchief from his breast pocket. Had a person tried, they could not have stood out more in this crowd.

Following close in his wake were two maidservants. They wore the traditional black dresses with frilly white aprons and caps, as though they had just stepped right out of a Victorian novel. The middle-aged one doing all the yapping had her hair tied in two long pigtails that brushed against her ankles. Petite even in this part of the world, the maid squinted in the sun from behind a pair of thick eyeglasses. She might have been pretty were it not for the way her face contracted in obvious worry, gnawing her lip like she expected to be mugged at any moment. It was this one who held the umbrella that protected their employer from being scorched by the midday sun.

While by no means tall, the older woman still towered over her small companion, who looked like a miniature doll version of the same. Only this girl was quite young, no more than twelve by his estimation. Probably from a poor family who thought she had lucked out getting a job working for this rich fellow. Her hair was tucked completely under its bun, and she kept her hands clasped before her and gaze rooted to the ground as though afraid of offending anyone by looking at them. The look of misery on that cute little downcast face would have drawn Noboru's interest even if she wasn't obviously being browbeaten. A trio like this simply screamed to be taken advantage of, in a way nobody else could.

And yet he did not proceed right away. Something about their appearance gave him pause. Both women were obviously Asian, with fair skin that marked them as foreign, while the man had features that left him thinking Spanish Castillian. Yet the woman spoke English like a native. Even for tourists they looked out of place. What were people like this doing here?

Then again, Japanese were not uncommon in Peru. And those of Spanish descent abounded on this continent. Perhaps he was simply overthinking this. _I think that's decided. Now, let's have some fun!_

The master had stopped by a stand selling exotic birds in cages. As he inspected various fowl from hoisin to birds of paradise, the so-called Miss Roberta started in on it again. "I do declare, one cannot find quality tour guides nowadays!" she sniffed while nervously scrunching the fabric of her apron in one fist. Behind her goofy glasses, suspicious eyes flickered over the children playing nearby as sweat dripped down her face. "To think that the travel agent called this city a 'pearl amidst the jungle'! False advertising, if I ever heard it! They shan't be getting our business again, that's for sure. The master will not suffer a corrupt merchant besmirching his ears with false flatteries."

Said master didn't seem to notice his vocal help. The rest of the crowd was avoiding her as well, their distaste obvious to see. Even the pickpockets wore expressions of contempt and chose to head elsewhere in search of less… touchy game.

The same could not be said for little Fabiola. She had attracted the interest of some of the boys loitering in the street. They approached her, whistling and calling out playfully in Spanish, a language she clearly did not understand. Noboru could tell they meant no harm. At least for the time being. They were just intrigued by this strange little creature wandering into their turf. And the way she blushed and steadfastly refused to look at them only served to gain their interest more.

Naturally Miss Roberta did not fail to take note of this. Her reaction was nothing short of comical. "SHOO!" she screeched, rushing forward to grab Fabiola by one arm while waving her umbrella at them with the other. "Go on, away with you! Honestly, girl, show a little common sense! You can't go cavorting around with riffraff! Use your head, you witless child! Fabiola, I am talking to you, at least look at me when you…!"

The boys laughed and darted forward to wave their arms and make faces at her. The head maid reacted as though they had pulled knives. She began swinging the umbrella wildly from side to side, failing to strike anyone. More a danger to herself the way she almost overbalanced there and nearly pitched face-first into the dirt. Doing so caused her skirt to flip up slightly.

Right then Noboru knew he couldn't resist anymore. It just had to be done! He might feel bad about it later, but that would have to wait.

Smiling in a mischievous way, he sidled along the street until he stood behind the panicky maid. No one took any notice of him. They were all too busy laughing at Roberta making a fool of herself. Let's see how they react to this! With that Noboru zipped in and made a grab for her skirts, intending to flip them over her head and be gone before anyone could begin to wonder what happened.

That was the plan. Instead in the very act of playing this giddy prank his outstretched hand was snatched in a grip of steel.

Noboru gasped, too surprised to react for a moment. He almost dropped the stick from his mouth but caught himself in time. Somebody caught me? Somebody saw me? How?

The answers became clear when the maid Roberta turned around and looked at him. She no longer chose to appear in any way ridiculous. That much was obvious. Now a stone-cold mistress of pain glared at the shocked ghost whose hand she held in a death-grip. Her free hand flew to her mouth, and one burst of spirit energy later, a woman dressed in weird black togs now had hold of him while the body she had discarded moved swiftly away to give them space. Noboru stared in shock at a pair of fierce black eyes no longer hidden behind glasses. He didn't have to see the sword strapped to her waist to know what just happened here. There was no mistaking her soul's feel.

He had been caught by a shinigami.

"You took the bait, as expected," the woman hissed. "We heard tell of your preference for playing pranks on women. Perhaps you should have brushed up on your Japanese manga instead. Then our disguises might have been seen through."

Having realized his situation, Noboru Kouki did not struggle. Instead he relaxed completely. From the corner of one eye he saw the unusual gentleman come strolling forward to address his phony maidservant, while at the same time a spirit that looked just like him observed Noboru's predicament without a trace of concern. This one too had a sword at his hip. Two shinigami. With gigai now inhabited by attendant spirits. The other one, Fabiola or whatever her real name might be, was the only one of their group who did not give up her faux body. Which could indicate she either wasn't ready or couldn't do so. Best to prepare for both contingencies.

"Unhand me," Noboru stated evenly. "If you don't you'll be sorry."

"We mean you no harm, Masahiko," the silver-haired man declared quietly. "Lady Yoruichi has sent us."

Noboru flinched and glanced over in surprise. Was this a trick? They knew his codename. Plus he noted the shinigami's uncovered eyes were of a distinctly golden color. Almost exactly the same as Yoruichi's. Could they really be friends of hers? She had always told him the shinigami were out to get her. It had been a while since they last spoke; might this be an indication of some reversal of fortune?

Perhaps so. Then again, that might not bode well for him after all. The shinigami could have caught her, forced Yoruichi to divulge his location. There was no way he was just about to take their word for it. Simply looking at the woman still holding onto him proved this lot was dangerous in the extreme.

"Now that you understand the situation," the female death god stated brusquely, "you will accompany us. Your cooperation is merely a courtesy, and can be revoked at any time. Do not force me to resort to kidō to bind…"

_Like hell I'm going anywhere with them!_

You said it.

This close he really had only one option, but it suited his tastes well. Noboru maneuvered the lollipop stem in his mouth until he held it gripped between his teeth. _Let's do it, partner!_ With that he undid the concealing spell.

An instant later a naked sword appeared where the white stick had been, its handle securely held in his mouth. Immediately he swung his head around to send that sharp blade flashing towards his captor's unprotected face.

He didn't aim to kill, only startle the woman enough to make her let go so he could escape. He had already planned out his route in advance. Instead Noboru was shocked when a sharp jolt traveled through his neck. Wide-eyed, the two spirits remained frozen before one another. It took only a split-second for him to realize what had happened.

She caught it! She caught it with her _teeth!_

They were like mirror images of one another now. Lips bared in a snarl around his zanpakutō's blade, the angry woman focused on him in a way that seemed to promise retribution for this assault. Noboru wasn't about to wait and see what that involved. Instead he worked his tongue around as best he could. Time for all that training to pay off!

"Bamboozle, _Hanuman!"_

Even somewhat tongue-tied, the incantation had its desired effect. The soul cutter changed instantly. Where once there had been a slim sword, now between their jaws each of them held one end of a bright red pole with inscribed gold caps on its tips. His spirit power ratcheted up far beyond its previous level, and Noboru took a brief moment to savor the shock in his opponent's eyes before completing his performance.

"Grow!"

Hanuman then extended to a length equivalent to sixteen city blocks in the blink of any eye, dragging the woman with her molars still embedded in its surface along for the ride. The nyoi-bo and its occupant passed through people and buildings without harm until she was lost to sight.

"Back!"

And just like that his weapon magically returned to the size of no more than a meter. Just in time, because the other shinigami was leaping forward with an incantation on his lips. "Bakudō #8: Winding Binding Chains!"

In response Noboru planted his pole end-first into the earth and used it to propel himself out of the way. The spell actually turned in pursuit of him, but from this vantage he caught it on the tip of Hanuman. With a few deft twists of the pliable staff, the whole mass of crackling energy was wound around its length like spaghetti on a fork. He then flipped this constrictive sorcery back at its caster, forcing him to dodge aside or risk being ensnared.

Noboru landed on the roof of a low building, examining the layout below to determine his best course of action. A sharp rush of instinctive fear caused the barefoot fighter to spin around weapon at the ready. He had been expecting to see the woman back again, and was surprised to find the dour-faced girl called Fabiola streaking towards him. So slack and disinterested were her features that Noboru could hardly believe she was attacking him. But when her foot lashed out in a kick, he brought Hanuman up to guard, and nearly lost his footing from the impact. Mercy, but she was strong!

This alone would not have been enough to dissuade him. However, as a result of her flipping around like that, the young boy found himself being presented with a very clear shot of her white garter stockings and panties.

Whoa.

Momentary as this hesitation might have been, it proved costly. For the next thing he knew, Noboru was slammed roughly against the tin roof with someone's knee digging into his neck.

"Enough," Soifon declared, a wealth of anger in that single word. The captain applied greater pressure with her knee to forestall any further attempts at escape. Absently it occurred to her clouds were forming overhead. Had Chōjirō-sama unleashed his own soul cutter? That reminds me: she then plucked the released zanpakutō from her captive's grasp, at the same time casually jamming her fingers into his mouth when he looked about to try and speak. No telling if this brat knew kidō or not. Best not to take chances. "Bakudō 69: Silver Tongue Striking A…"

The world went silent.

Everyone grew still. Soifon, the boy beneath her, and Ururu. None of them dared to move.

From all around them, a guttural animal snarl made their blood run cold.

It can't be! Not during the day! Why would they…?

Looking up, Soifon found herself staring at the sky. Where once there had been a bright sunny day, now a huge gray cloud the size of this city loomed overhead. As she watched a veil seemed to part in its stygian depths.

Revealed behind it was the shape of a stag with great branching antlers and holes for eyes.

"It's here!" she breathed incredulously.

The Wild Hunt was here.

There was no time to ponder, as that entire mass of malevolent spirit energy suddenly rushed down in a swirling vortex of disruptive power that caused this planet's natural rhythm to scream in protest. It collided with the city, but then rather than leaving any sign of damage, the cyclone simply dissipated as though it had never been. Around them, the humans of Tingo María paid this supernatural reaction no mind. Some of them shivered as though uncomfortable despite the warmth before proceeding to go about their business.

Noboru took advantage of the distraction. He grabbed hold of Soifon's leg with both hands and managed to wrench himself to the side, freeing his neck. As he rolled upright one hand lashed out to seize hold of his zanpakutō, but the captain recovered in time to keep it from being wrenched away.

Or so she thought. Before the ninja mistress could react, the baying of a thousand bloodthirsty beasts sent a shock through the very spiritual aether of this world. This disruption made it feel like she was standing on a violently tilting surface, a storm-swept ocean rather than solid ground. Ururu had fallen to one knee, while Soifon rocked back and forth in a desperate effort to stabilize herself.

For one instant her grip slackened, and Noboru seized this opportunity to pull his weapon free. He then turned and shot away fast as shunpō.

"Masahiko, halt!"

About to take off in pursuit, Soifon was stopped by the sound of a frantic scream.

She looked down in time to catch sight of an exotic fish vendor crashing through the front of his stall. He shrieked through bloodied lips, tearing at his face and arms while what looked to be several piranha sank their razor-sharp teeth into his flesh. Elsewhere, a child was wailing hysterically as several desperate passerby sought to pull away a stray dog that was savagely worrying her leg between its jaws. Without warning the maddened beast tore away with bits of the child's skin dangling free. It then slipped swiftly through the legs of the frightened humans, none of whom attempted to catch the dog for fear of being bitten by the obviously mad animal. Uttering a ragged howl, it tore off down the lane.

The world of the spirit impinged upon mankind even further. Everywhere birds tore free of their cages and took to the air. Monkeys and marmosets, dogs and alley cats, pigs and lizards. A veritable menagerie of insane beasts ripped loose of whatever restrained them and raced along the city streets, snapping and clawing at anyone foolish enough to bar their path.

All of them were moving in the same direction Masahiko had fled.

Chōjirō dropped beside Soifon only for an instant. Their eyes met, and then both took off in pursuit with Ururu following swiftly behind.

As she ran, Soifon cursed herself. Now things were so much worse. It was Masahiko the Hunt had been after! His unleashing of spiritual power allowed them to get a bead on him. Could Lady Yoruichi have suspected something of this nature? Was that why they had been tasked with locating him?

Curse it! This is all my fault! I had him, and let him go! Yoruichi-sama will be furious if they let the target escape, or worse, if he actually died!

_Resolve_.

And so Soifon must not fail.

I will capture the child. Destroy the Hunt if need be! Whatever it takes to complete my mission!

Even if it costs me my life. This I swear.

_To be continued…_


	3. Winter's End: Monkey Hunt

Kon looked down at himself in disbelief. He patted his chest a few times as if to make certain this was real and not a sick prank. At last he lifted his chin to declare with as much pride as someone in his position could muster, "I feel _wrong_, Nee-san."

In contrast to his reaction Rukia appeared to be enjoying herself, judging by the tiny smirk she wasn't bothering to hide. "Actually I think it's rather cute!"

Standing on the worktable before her, the now corporeally reinstated mod soul had to wonder if his beautiful Nee-san honestly did have a few screws loose. Only a minute past upon learning where exactly they intended to reinstate him, she summarily overrode his frantic objections. Even if only temporary, this experience would certainly lend itself towards nightmares. But true to form nobody listened to Kon.

Which was why he now found himself inside a ten-inch-high chibi doll version of what could only be his creator, Mayuri Kurotsuchi.

The little neondoroid fumed at this treatment. Was everybody in existence out to humiliate him? He could see his reflection in the shiny gold surface of the table. The image did nothing to improve his disposition. This little figurine was even dressed according to what he remembered his creator's prerogatives being, right down to the captain's cloak and asymmetrical hat. Face paint, bronze ears and comically bulging eyes were bad enough. But to top it all off there was even a little zanpakutō sheathed between his legs, making it exceedingly uncomfortable to even walk. When he withdrew it Kon found the implement to be not a sword, but a multi-purpose cleaning tool that switched between dust rag, mop and vacuum at the press of a button. His degradation was now complete.

"_Degenerate."_

Kon glanced over to where several of the other so-called Mini-Mus busied themselves cleaning around the laboratory. He could hear their faint squeaky voices as they worked. _"Halfwit,"_ one of them piped. _"Halfwit-halfwit."_ The rest had their own verbal tics which they sang tunelessly. _"Lummox." "Simpleton." "Cretin." _Apparently some of the scientists idolized their boss enough that they created these tiny toys in order to fill the void when he wasn't around. Complete with Super-Insult features. Everyone in this place must be gluttons for punishment.

"_Dolt-dolt."_

He could have sworn that one looked his way when it spoke. This place was turning him into a nervous wreck.

Rukia touched her chin and examined him with a critical eye while he was so preoccupied. "Now that you mention it, you are missing something."

"A little jingly hat with bells on it?" he muttered sullenly.

"_Fool."_

Kon narrowed his eyes at one in particular. That last comment hit just a bit too close to home. They weren't doing it when anyone else spoke either. Coincidence?

"No, not quite. Maybe a bit of a personal touch, to distinguish you from all the rest."

Akon looked up from where he was inputting data into a computer. "There are other versions with different uniforms, Ojousama. Did you have something specific in mind?"

She pondered this. Then her face brightened. "Bunny ears, perhaps?"

"I AM NOBODY'S DRESS-UP DOLL!" Kon shrieked at the top of his lungs, flailing wildly.

"_Ignoramus."_

He whirled on the offending doll. "SHUT UP!"

"Quiet."

He did, sitting down quickly and without complaint. Kon accomplished this so fast it would have been obvious to anyone watching that something was off about his reaction. Because it was _her _that had spoken. She stood a few paces behind Rukia with hands clasped and face expressionless; the killer of mods, whom he had only recently begun thinking of as Nemu Kurotsuchi. Kon could hardly bring himself to move when she so much as looked his way. Maybe it was his imagination, but it seemed like all the other Mini-Mus had shut up at her command as well. Smarter than they look. He felt like a worm caught aboveground with a blackbird standing right over him. It was simply vile.

On the wide screen dominating this secluded chamber the outline of a generic male figure appeared. It began to revolve slowly, allowing every angle to be visible. A basic gigai from the look of it. Numerical specs and other information scrolled by on all sides.

"The program is up-and-running now, Ojousama," Akon swiveled in his chair to inform them. He was the only other facility stooge still in attendance. The rest, including Bullfrog and Hemorrhoid Guy, had been given some instructions before they were politely dismissed a while back. "Should we begin with easy cosmetic alterations?"

"What's that mean?" Kon's anxious eyes swiveled from one face to another in search of an explanation to what sounded rather nasty.

Akon gave him a measuring glance. "What do you expect in your physical appearance?"

This question brought his objections up short. "Wait, you mean… I get to decide how I look?"

"To a very wide extent."

The possessed doll found his previous trepidation replaced with calculated interest. His golden tongue leapt to new life as he licked his lips. "For starters... I want to be tall. Seven… no, make that eight feet! At the shoulder."

The horned technician casually tapped in a few commands. Onscreen the generic body increased to a superior height. Kon's eyes gleamed at the potential he beheld. "And muscles too! Like a bodybuilder. No, a Greek god! I want the ladies to go all soft and mushy just at the sight of my biceps!"

A few keystrokes and the virtual gigai bulged with sculpted precisions.

"PECS!" Kon declared, growing more heated. "Give me PECS, man, wide as window panes!"

This too was implemented. After that he was off.

"Bronzed skin! Long curly reddish-gold locks that I can toss back and forth! A rugged manly jaw! Perfect teeth! Aquiline nose!" Not sure what 'aquiline' really meant but it sure sounded good. He was frothing at the mouth uncontrollably and found himself quite unable to stop now. "Almond-shaped eyes! Blue ones, with… flecks of gold in them! Opposable thumbs! Strong sensual mouth! And hung! Hung like a HORSE, like a freakin' MUSTANG, LIKE A-!"

A small fist rapped him on the skull. Kon gave a yowl and looked behind him, rubbing his sore spot with an aggrieved expression. "Nee-san! What gives?"

Rukia leveled a scornful glower his way. "You were getting carried away. For your information, this is not a vanity project. You should treat it with more…"

Right then her eyes drifted over to the screen. They widened slightly, and she seemed to lose track of what she had been saying before.

Score, Kon thought! She likes it!

"Everything all right, Ojousama?"

At Akon's voice Rukia jumped a little. She brought a hand up to her cheek, ducking her head embarrassedly. "Ahem," she coughed. "Yes. Perhaps, upon further consideration, we should decide upon the brand of gigai before determining the… unessential elements."

"Unessential!" Kon wailed indignantly. "Did you see what I did? That thing would have put an elephant to shame, it was-!"

"KON!" Her voice cracked through the room, causing him to cringe. "Why don't you take a tour of the facility? We'll call you when it's time to discuss your appearance."

A new shade of dread stole over him. "You want me to walk around this place? By myself? _Unprotected?"_

Akon draped an arm over the back of his seat and gestured at him. "Actually, while inside that Mini-Mu, you should be able to go wherever you please. They're cleaning units and have built-in security clearance. Don't worry," the steely-eyed scientist sought to reassure him. "The Mus are made to disable any extermination protocols should they try to enter somewhere restricted. You'll come back safe and sound when need be. Now, as to the baseline gigai, Mayuri-sama did indeed develop ones specifically to house the mod souls after…"

What exactly did he mean by 'disable'? Nobody was looking at him anymore. Kon got the impression that was a dismissal. With a huff he took a step off the edge of the table. Rather than falling, instead his tiny form hovered upwards, bobbing along in a slightly drunken manner.

Now, how do I get out of here?

As soon as this thought passed his mind a hole opened in the ceiling overhead. Red light shone down, and before Kon could so much as say…

"Huh?"

He was whisked upward out of the room. The discussion continued without interruption.

* * *

><p>A horde of savage animals was on the move, tearing through fields and streams in search of its prey. And this world shuddered at their presence.<p>

From her vantage high above the jungle canopy, Soifon considered her opponent, evident below as a swath of disturbance in the normal rhythm of nature. Flocks of birds took to the air in alarm as they sensed the oncoming madness. Jaguar packs tore through the undergrowth with an uncharacteristic lack of grace. Monkeys fled, screeching calls to one another, while alligators trundled quickly into the water, abandoning the banks for the relative safety of the river.

All this was nothing by way of comparison to what precipitated their exodus. The Wild Hunt. Absolute frenzy in living form. Hundreds of different beasts raced through the jungle en masse, heedless of anything that might stand in their way. She saw a dog that had clearly been a house-pet minutes past tear to the top of a ridge and proceed to fling itself off, plummeting thirty feet to the ground below. The impact broke both its back legs to pieces, leaving them twisted at grotesque angles with jagged bloody bone sticking out. Yet still the creature clawed its way forward, slavering and panting without any regard for the no-doubt fatal wounds it had sustained.

Soifon sympathized. No mere physical injury could surpass what was being done to that poor brute. It was possessed by the Hunt, sharing space in its body with part of the ghostly pack. Each member of that impious lot had claimed a host in order to manifest during daylight hours. Otherwise they would not be able to move about. The Wild Hunt was free to act openly in their true form only at night. That was when they were at their most dangerous. During the day their powers were severely weakened, and they required avatars to remain on the loose.

This in and of itself posed a problem for anyone facing them. An animal possessed by a Hollow was able to inflict harm on spiritual beings such as shinigami, something that would otherwise be impossible for them. In addition, the living shell offered the demons protection. They could not be reached by a zanpakutō. Indeed, mortals of any stripe were generally invulnerable to spiritual attacks. Only those with spirit power themselves were susceptible, as their own energy reacted to the assault. It was true bakudō could dissuade or influence living things to an extent regardless of whether they had spirit power or not. But damaging them was another story. People might feel a slight breeze when touched by a spirit or their clothes could rustle, but that was pretty much it. Interaction with the mortal world was limited to very small acts like moving light objects. And garbed in their purloined pelts these monsters could not be reached in the usual manner. Just as a shinigami was unable to inflict harm upon the living or even so much as touch them, those possessed beasts too were beyond her reach. The undeveloped soul of an animal was highly vulnerable to possession by spirits in a way humans were not. Since this limited the range of choices offered hardly any Hollows were wont to do it. Only the Hunt considered such a tactic viable.

None of which helped to resolve her primary concern. Masahiko remained in danger. So long as he was on this plane they would pursue him. Until the Hunt was vanquished, one way or another. It was beneath her station to simply try and wait until the morning. The boy must be recovered and transported to Soul Society. Nothing else mattered.

First thing's first. She must locate Masahiko. His spirit signature had faded, but that was of no consequence. The Hunt had his scent. To find her mark, she need only follow them. The boy most likely had not a clue what was after him. No matter how fast he was, the moment he stopped moving, for rest or just from thinking himself safe, that's when they would overtake him. The Hunt never relented. She had that much in common with them.

But Soifon was no pack of mad beasts. She was a hunter and duty-bound to see this particular assignment through.

Chōjirō stood at her side observing the lush jungle landscape. Like her, he had donned the attire of an Onmitsukidō member. "We are at a disadvantage,'" the elder death god stated.

Soifon nodded without taking her eyes off that swarm of wildlife. She knew what he meant. The two of them were here in an unofficial capacity, meaning they were not authorized to call for aid. More importantly, Lady Yoruichi had given this mission solely to herself and Sasakibe, which implicitly prohibited notifying the other Stealth Forces as they had not been briefed. The three of them were on their own. Speaking of which…

Where exactly was Ururu?

She looked down to where their familiars were located. Her own gigai perched in a tree looking up at its mistress for instructions. Chōjirō's was on a branch busily scanning the pack's progress. But Urahara's golem was nowhere to be seen. When did the little robot slip away?

As if on cue, the earpiece Soifon wore buzzed, and Ururu's voice came through.

"Horsefly reporting in. I am tailing Masahiko. Tracking features engaged. Enemy presence closing in. Over and out."

Soifon processed this information, working it into the strategy she had already developed. Both ninja looked at one another, exchanging much without a word being spoken between them. After this she adjusted her earpiece and took off in the direction from which Ururu's signal was being transmitted.

* * *

><p>Dawn in Soul Society. A time for reflection, introspection, and peace for those so inclined. The lovely pastel colors that came with the fading sun were just as much a balm to the spirit as their occurrence in the living world.<p>

Saijin Komamura dreaded this time of day.

To prevent himself from thinking too much about it, the former shinigami captain busied himself in his garden. Herbs and spicy peppers grew alongside each other in a profusion of succulent shoots. Lemongrass and coriander, oregano and habañero. Flavorful aromas as significant as their tastes. He enjoyed gardening. It relaxed him in a way few things had ever been able. And it served to keep him occupied. He would not allow himself to sink into self-pity. Such maudlin thoughts were best kept at bay by honest work. This much, at least, he was still capable of performing. Tomorrow he would go to pay his weekly visit to the wellness center. In truth Saijin might have gone every day, however he felt that might prove bothersome to the attendants working there. And he disliked the idea of frustrating people who still had something to contribute. Unlike himself.

Not for the first time, he caught himself expecting to hear a stern voice upbraiding him from within his soul. No such thing happened. A grief unlike that from before settled in as a result.

I miss you, old friend. You who were my closest companion since my arrival in this place. May your next wielder prove more worthy than I.

As this self-deprecating reprimand passed through his mind, a chill stole over him.

At first Saijin resolved not to think upon this sensation, preferring to busy himself with weeding and the disposal of other pests. The sensation persisted, however. Like an itch that refused to go away. It made his fur stand on end all up and down his massive body. This was unpleasant, and he wished dearly for some idea of what might be wrong.

As if in response, something growled.

Instantly Komamura froze. He kept very still, ears pricked up to twitch in anticipation of further warnings. The gardening tools slowly dropped from his nerveless fingers. Eyes wide, he stared straight ahead, dreading to know if his senses had deceived him or if he had heard correctly.

After a few minutes, just when he almost convinced himself it had been nothing, a scent caught his nostrils. One he knew very well.

Fear.

The prey had been sighted. Now the pack would surge forth and tear it limb from limb, devouring everything in a chaotic orgy of wild hunger and base cravings.

_It_ had returned.

His fangs ground together, and a snarl louder than the one from before emerged from his throat. After this he remained still for a time. Thinking.

Eventually Komamura clambered upright. His large, useless hands clenched into fists at his sides. And though he knew himself to be helpless now, all the same, he could not help but yearn to go tearing forwards in pursuit of his quarry. All he knew was the heart-pounding instinctual need to surge forth towards battle, thereby to redress any crimes they might have ever committed. Vile, loathsome, unforgiveable _Hollows!_

There would be no battles, however. Not for him. No, instead his only recourse lay in offering wisdom, such as it were. The knowledge of a broken, helpless man willing to share his sins in the hope that others of greater capability might find some small measure of use from them.

The gardening tools were left where they lay. Instead Saijin went inside to put on his traveling clothes. It was a long walk to his destination, and he did not wish to trouble any of his former comrades. Not yet, at any rate. First he needed to discuss the matter with people he knew could be relied upon.

Sliding open the door to his closet, he slipped off the plain shirt he wore and selected attire of modest design. Penitent's garb. Suitable for such a conference. He then made his way to the front hallway where he took down his hat. With a care that still carried over from the days when his unchecked strength could lead to accidents, he slipped a coat over his brawny shoulders, then reached down to tie on a pair of sturdy shoes. After this he rose up and reached for the door.

"Where ya goin', Komamura-san?"

The former shinigami went still. His ears twitched slightly, picking out the rustle of cloth and a slight grunt that indicated someone just sat down behind him. He had not heard anyone enter his domain. This told him everything he needed to know. While no longer able to detect spirit signatures, his ears had never failed him before. Except in the case of one untrustworthy man who seemed to go wherever he pleased without fear of detection.

And it was this person he found sitting on his stoop when he turned around.

A growl threatened to steal from his throat once more. This time Saijin bit it back. There was nothing he could do in his current condition. And if it was his time to die, then he would at least strive to face it with whatever shred of dignity remained to his name.

"Seems things are gettin' a little wild an' wooly again. Just like old times, neh? Betcha that means folks are gonna come knocking on your door to find some answers."

Komamura watched him with obvious mistrust. His golden eyes drifted down to the soul cutter sheathed at the man's hip. For some reason he could not help but miss the feel of his own. Whether alive or not, it would have been nice to know a friend was close at hand right now.

"I knew you would come eventually," the old wolf murmured.

Before him, the silver fox grinned. "Indeedy-do."

* * *

><p>Mini-Mus. On parade.<p>

Everywhere Kon looked the tiny puppets traveled along glowing tubes that cut through a strange semi-darkness of mauve and lavender that left him feeling as though he were traversing the veins of some gargantuan beast. Who could say? Maybe at the push of a button this entire sinister fortress would rise up from the ground and reveal itself to be a giant robot, or a slumbering behemoth that had been put to use as a domicile. No informed person would make the mistake of assuming such a thing was beyond the crazies working here. He had seen something along those lines in an anime once. And even ghost dweebs watched TV. That would make the Mini-Mus (or M&Ms as he now thought of them) some kind of immune system agents. Or maybe an infectious disease would be a better comparison. The guy they were modeled after certainly fit the bill.

Funny how I can make a connection along those lines. All that time in high school doing Ichigo's homework actually paid off.

While still musing on this, his tiny body traversed intersecting branches of the transportation network aimlessly. It didn't seem as though he had an intended destination. Maybe I have to think about where to go? After all, that's what got me out of that last spot. Hmmm…

All right then, how about, 'Ladies Shower Room'? Yeah, that oughta be good!

It worked. The next thing he knew, Kon's course had altered, sending him down a different glowing organic lane. Other M&Ms whisked along ahead and behind him without paying each other any attention. No gossipy maids in this place. Their multi-purpose tools were already being deployed in preparation of cleaning.

A light appeared at the end of the tunnel, and all thoughts beyond debauchery fled. His limbs were shaking in delight at the prospect. Dweebs or not, naked was naked! And that one Anbu girl at least was worth a peak. Wait, I see something… hold on, what's…?

"GYAAAAAHH!"

Several people in various parts of the facility looked up, wondering where that particular scream was coming from if not their own current research. Even more confusing was when they heard…

"HEMORRHOID GUY'S A GIRL! HEMORRHOID GUY'S A GIRL!"

* * *

><p>Noboru Kouki didn't stop to rest or check behind him. His every thought was bent on speed, to put as much distance between himself and whatever that had been as he could. After a bit though some measure of conscious reaction reasserted itself. His course changed as a result.<p>

Reach the mountains. That's what he had to do. Once inside the catacombs there would be no chance of capture. Belonging to a vanished civilization, the ancient ruins were haunted by ghosts and magic of the dead that existed nowhere else. Hollows lurked in those depths, foul monstrosities awash in their misery and fat from luckless scavenged souls. It was their presence as much as anything that made the catacombs such a perfect hiding place. Anyone following him would serve as a meal to those demons. As for Noboru, he had long since familiarized himself with the city's layout and need not fear falling prey to any of its inhabitants, Hollow or otherwise.

At that moment a cry ripped through him.

The racing soul snapped to a halt as only one without a body can. For several seconds he made no voluntary move. In this time he felt keenly the telltale signs of overexertion, registering as sweat on his ghostly brow and the labored beating of his heart. Far worse, though, was what he felt around him.

In every direction, the jungle was screaming. Noboru had been on his own so long that his environment had become as much his companion as anything could be, alive or not. He could sense the breath of the planet, foresee when a storm might be building or even the chilling stillness that presaged an earthquake.

There was nothing subtle about this, however. More like a violent intrusion upon the world, an attack that struck at the very essence of life as he knew it. And it was coming from everywhere.

"It's the Hunt."

He whipped around. Not ten feet away, Fabiola stood atop a fallen tree trunk watching him. She still had on the maid costume, and her face had lost none of its morose demeanor. Exactly the same as when her foot had been aiming to take his head off. He nearly bolted right then and there. But his curiosity had been stoked by what she said, and more importantly how she found him.

"You can't get away from it."

The wispy brunette spoke before he could even open his mouth to question her presence, causing Noboru to hesitate. Her flat eyes tracked slowly around the eerie locale, on alert for anything that might be approaching them. "What came through back in the town was the main force. The rest emerged in a circle one mile wide surrounding your previous location. That ring is now closing in around us. Once it reaches you, the Hunt will strip your soul, leaving nothing behind. That's what will happen if you try and run."

She had delivered his death notice without any sign of caring one way or another. Not wanting to seem fazed by her recital, Noboru leaned on his staff in a posture of loose-limbed disinterest and smiled. "Let me guess. That means my only chance of survival is to come with you, right?"

He winked at her then. To his surprise, the girl blushed just like before. Maybe not all of that performance back in town had been feigned. "The Hunt won't lose your scent for twenty-four hours. If you come to soul Society, they won't be able to reach you." She dug her toe into the bark self-consciously and took a deep breath. "So… that's all."

Noboru stared at her for a while. His nerves were all jangled from the disruption surrounding them. Could he truly believe anything she had told him?

_I think she's weird. But not bad. Maybe a test?_

Good idea.

He brought up Hanuman and brandished its tip at her despondent face. "The old guy said Yoruichi sent you. Do you have any proof?"

Fabiola simply shook her head. "No proof. Never trust a person's words."

Behind the curtain of his hair Noboru narrowed his eyes at this response. That was one of Yoruichi's sayings, all right. She always liked to dole out advice, like she had a bent for teaching people. But what was the point of taking that for confirmation if the saying itself contradicted it?

While busy weighing his options, there came a rustling in the undergrowth. A small black capuchin monkey burst into view soon after. It took one look at Noboru, and gave a terrific scream. The next thing he knew it was launching itself at him. He watched it come, perplexed. Could the little guy be hurt and looking for help? On instinct he moved towards the distraught primate, only to find Fabiola had interposed herself between them.

About to demand an explanation, Noboru was shocked when the girl lifted her skirt and lashed out, kicking the white-faced primate into the bole of a tree with a sickening smack.

"HEY!"

He was around her and kneeling by the capuchin's side. "Are you CRAZY?" Noboru demanded of the little maid, who just gave him a dispirited glance before turning to look around them. "The poor thing was sick, he needed…!"

_Noboru, don't touch it!_

His hand was already outstretched with a healing incantation on his lips when the monkey reared up and snatched hold of him. Before he could even wonder as to how this might be, its teeth were sunk deep into his arm.

"AAHH!"

The cry was from shock as much as pain. Noboru scrambled back waving his limb in a wild attempt to dislodge the thing assaulting him. That was impossible! How could a living being even…?

Suddenly Fabiola was there, grasping the crazed simian by its neck. Her other hand took a firm hold on its torso. She gave a sharp twist, and one could clearly hear the sound of a spinal column snapping. For just a second those tiny jaws spasmed even deeper into his ethereal flesh. After this the fake maid calmly pried the broken corpse loose and dropped it unceremoniously at their feet.

Noboru sat sprawled in front of his savior. Wide eyes darted back and forth from the dead body to his arm, which was streaming blood from a ragged bleeding wound. His breath came in heavy gasps. It occurred to him he was close to panicking. It required all his strength to keep from trembling. Meanwhile the girl before him remained cool and calm as if nothing unusual had taken place.

"What the hell is going on?" he panted.

"It was possessed. That's why it could hurt you," Fabiola squatted down before him. "The Hollow inside allowed it to touch spirits. And there's a lot more on their way. You won't be able to outrun them. Won't you come with us?"

It felt like his brain was in a daze. Killer maids, shinigami, death clouds, now ensorcelled monkeys? All in one _day? _It was like somebody was purposefully trying to throw him off balance.

Glancing up at the adolescent assassin, a sharp spike of suspicion shot through him. That might be exactly what's happening here. This could all be a setup, a way to get him to walk right into the hands of the shinigami. They were relying on him to be scared and confused enough to forego all his instincts and training in favor of self-preservation. Who was this girl, anyway? He didn't even know her name. And she expected him to trust her implicitly?

"What's your…?"

Fabiola backhanded him across the face.

The unexpectedness and force of the blow sent him spinning away. It also served to resolve his previous indecision. Righting himself in midair, Noboru whipped up his zanpakutō with an angry shout.

It was only then that he saw the banana spider.

Bigger than a man's hand, the ugly gray arachnid scuttled furiously towards the space he had just occupied. Then like a magnet it switched directions to follow him. Fabiola dove straight for the venomous spider, and Noboru felt his blood go cold. "STOP!"

She didn't hesitate, hand slapping down on the eight-legged monstrosity to smash it into the dirt. But this time her target moved with a natural dexterity that surpassed her efforts. The arachnid slapped to a dead halt with the aid of its multiple appendages and scooted to one side. Fabiola's strike hit right in front of its position, and then it sprang forward. Noboru practically heard its fangs pierce her skin. A scream he didn't even recognize as his own rang through the forest, and then he was driving Hanuman towards the banana spider. If they could touch him surely the reverse held true as well!

There was no chance to test his theory, though, as the maid's free hand smashed the grotesquerie biting her into a sticky mess.

His fury died out instantly, and Noboru dropped to her side. With his help Fabiola stood up. She winced slightly, the first actual expression he had seen from her. Not at all how he had hoped things to go. Noboru took her hand and inspected the wound. She allowed him to do so. Blood leaked from two holes between her thumb and forefinger. He was just about to try and heal it when the far-off scream of an animal reminded him of their situation.

_We should get to safety, and fast!_

No arguments here. And she's coming too!

Without hesitation he then reached down and scooped the girl up in his arms. As expected her physical form proved readily susceptible to this despite his being a ghost. Now carrying her, Noboru shot off in the direction of the mountains.

The girl shifted around and whispered very softly. "You're going the wrong way. My comrades are behind us."

"Don't worry," he responded. "I'm taking you someplace safe. Nothing can find us there and I'll be free to treat that bite." It could be done. Thankfully he knew how to heal the living. It was just a matter of tending to the wound in time. Forced to dodge trees now that he was carrying a body, the going was slower. No help for it. She takes priority right now.

Something occurred to him, and he looked at the girl closely. "So what's your name, anyway? I'm guessing it's not Fabiola."

She hesitated before finally shaking her head. "No. I am… Ururu Tsumugiya."

Noboru grinned. He made his own voice soft in an attempt to be reassuring. "Noboru Kouki. Nice to meet you, Ururu."

His little lady responded to that by looking down, as if abashed at meeting his gaze. However to his surprise she did reach up to drape her arms around his neck in a secure embrace. Trying not to think too hard about how it felt to hold and be held by a girl like this, the prince of the forest continued to make good their escape.

* * *

><p>"MY EYES! MY EEEEEYES!"<p>

While Mini-Mus busily trundled around him with their cleaning, Kon convulsed on the ground. His head slammed against the tiles in a desperate attempt to dislodge the sight he had just witnessed. How could he have forgotten the pervert's first rule? Be ready to _look away!_ Because some things you don't _want _to see! One would think hours of trolling the internet for porn would have cemented the need for this safety mechanism in him, but oh no, that wasn't the case!

Through sheer mental discipline he finally managed to lock away that horrific memory. No telling when it might resurface, but that's the cross he would have to bear. In the meantime Kon fiercely occupied his brain by trying to name all the anime he could possibly think of. Have to keep the demon down, along with my lunch!

After a few minutes the traumatized toy picked himself up and surveyed his new surroundings. Having fled back into the M&M delivery system, his course had taken him on a roundabout route without direction. At some point it simply spat him out here, in a deserted assembly hall. There was nothing to see besides some closed doors leading who knew where. To get out he need only concentrate on leaving and the delivery system would do the rest. But curiosity got the better of him at this point, and Kon soon found himself standing before one of those soaring portals.

Who could say what might be behind this door? Of course he knew it would be suicide to go gallivanting around this butcher's shop without a clue. Still, what's the worst that could happen? Wrinkles liver spots drooping boo-DON'T REMEMBER!

Self-preservation compelled him to float up to the door, which slid open in response. Whatever was behind it couldn't possibly be any worse than his own treacherous mind.

Inside was only darkness. "Hello?" Kon called as he floated through. "Anybody here?" He peered about for a switch of some kind. Just then the door closed with a fast whoosh, and as if on cue, yellow lights came on overhead. The inquisitive explorer found himself inside what looked to be a storage facility. There were rows of transparent jelly blobs as tall as a man lined up end to end. Each had within its depths at least half a dozen different objects whose provenance was difficult to determine at first glance.

Intrigued, Kon drifted down a lane at random. Upon approaching any of the stored treasures in their gelatinous confines, lettering would print out upon the surface that identified what each item might be. He saw a collection of dolls, each of which had been chopped or torn apart for some reason, all disturbingly lifelike in terms of their anatomy and listed under the name, 'The 46'. Another shelf held an odd little idol that looked like a winged entity with an octopus head crouched atop a column. Its title was 'C-Totem, Louisiana bayou raid, 1908 Anno Domini'. Wherever he looked something new and ghastly appeared floating in its own preservative housing. The mummified fingers of someone named 'Ozzie Ris'. Three golden heads whose eyes watched him pass by and whose mouths moved without producing words. A severed hand with a quill pen writing over the surface of a globe. Even a copy of the anime 'Harmagedon'. Horror upon horror.

Then at last he came to the final row that held anything. This contained the most outrageous assortment of all, every one suspiciously numbered in sequence from 1 through 10. Only half the receptacles held anything of note. The first and second were empty, but in the position of #3 he saw what resembled a bunch of gray eyeless fish corpses with enormous fanged mouths. The fourth held an urn, the type usually employed in carrying someone's ashes. Slot number 5 he passed by quickly, as it sported a smashed head with a hole where one eye should be and no tongue. Six and seven were vacant. The one labeled as 8 was simply entitled 'Imperfect Lifeform' and its contents had been compressed to the size and dimensions of a Twinkie while still giving the vague impression of a pink-haired man. Kon sincerely hoped that he had been dead before that was done to him. Probably best not to know.

The ninth just held a sign that read, 'Disposed of by request of Patroness', while the last entry in this procession of freaks turned out to be a one-armed giant missing its head. By then he was at the end of the show. All remaining jelly containers were empty after this point. Now thoroughly perplexed, Kon peered back behind him. It was almost like this had been a trophy room built by a psychotic person. If so, it was a world-class nut-job responsible. Which considering where he was could indicate it had belonged to…

A tremor born from his innermost soul shook the little cleaning droid. It seemed wherever he looked there were remorseless golden eyes watching him. I could have been in here, he realized; a dead thing set aside as testament to that maniac's obsessions. Maybe one of my brother's remains _are_ in here somewhere, tucked away where nobody else can see. The thought made Kon's synthetic skin crawl from fear and discomfort, and more than anything he wanted out of that room without delay.

Much to his relief he felt himself being whisked away into the ceiling in response to that wish. Now once again riding through the building's circulatory system he tried to calm down. Without success. A lingering sense of unease persisted. Kon couldn't rid himself of the impression that clownish face was forever watching him wherever he went. He recalled the sensation of being rolled around the madman's palm right before being inserted into a fresh cadaver. Next came the testing to gauge how well he performed. And all the while that freak continued to observe, smiling in that crazy way he had, chalky skin making his rotten yellow teeth stand out even further, eyes rolling madly in his sockets whenever he became upset. Don't let him get mad at me, please, I don't want to be destroyed! Keep her away from me!

Hold on. Am I… going somewhere?

Before he knew it the errant mod soul was deposited in a new location. Nervously he glanced around in expectation of fresh atrocities on display. There was no such thing, however. It was just a high-ceilinged room perhaps the length of a swimming pool. Pale green lines glowed dully in walls and ceiling, threading all throughout in straight geometric patterns that never intersected. They pulsed rhythmically in a way that seemed to accentuate the shadows rather than dispelling them. High archways were set into the walls but had no visible doors inside them. Terrific. Where did that stupid rollercoaster send me now, and why?

When Kon turned around, he saw what he first took to be some variety of cactus. It was green at least, and growing up out of the floor to over ten feet in height. Only after studying this solitary spire did it dawn upon him there was nothing organic about it. More like a stalactite… or was it a stalagmite? He always got those two confused. Whatever it might be, the crystal pillar seemed to be the only thing inside the chamber. The green bands in the floor all emerged from that point. Were they feeding into it, or draining something out? He couldn't really tell.

Bored, Kon inspected the pinnacle from top to bottom, but could determine nothing about its provenance or purpose. Touching it was out of the question. Thing might be explosive for all he knew. Its surface was smooth and shiny, though. He floated listlessly round and around the obelisk in search of anything that would indicate what this might be. His reflection could be seen quite clearly. Maybe there was something sealed inside there, way down deep where I can't see it?

As he bobbed a little higher, the wandering mod noticed his reflection had become warped slightly. He drew back a little to get a better look at what caused this. And in doing so, finally noticed the face staring out at him.

"EYYAAAAAAH!"

A panicked shriek, a dive to safety, and Kon was huddled trembling behind the only available protection, a console rising out of the floor. The sight from before was emblazoned onto his eyeballs: wide open mouth locked in a silent scream, panicked eyes staring into his own as if to beseech his help. It was this last that served to loosen the fearful paralysis from his limbs, allowing him to come out from cover and once more inspect that dire monument. Clearly it held something more unsettling than first appearance would indicate. But it didn't seem to offer any harm, at least not to him.

After marshaling his courage, the plucky little mascot finally streaked up to once more hang before that pleading visage. Once he felt certain nothing ominous was in the works, he managed to come close enough to make out the details. It wasn't really a living face; more like it had been carved into the monument's side. But the attention to detail, combined with the unspeakable agony etched into every visible inch, convinced him this was no mere art project. That was a real person who had been somehow trapped inside this crystal prison. Should I let him out? There's probably a good reason they put him in there, right? Or not, who knows? All the same, there's something really familiar about that guy, if I can just put my finger on it maybe…

In scrutinizing that reflective physiognomy closer, Kon caught a glimpse of his own image thrown back at him. The Mini-Mu's face peeked out, slightly warped from the green glass. Two faces inside one another…

The answer came clear, dropping like a heavy yoke around his neck so he almost fell from the sheer intensity of his realization.

That's me. No, I mean, not me, but the face they let me borrow, the one I'm wearing that actually belongs to…

Him.

Dazed. Confused. Dumbfounded. All these served to describe his emotional state at that moment. It was over a minute before Kon felt confident of anything, even his whereabouts. To say nothing of himself.

Who am I? I'm Kaizō Konpakku. Kon, for short. I borrow bodies. Waiting on a new one now, courtesy of my Nee-san. We came back to the place where I was born to get it. And the person responsible for my birth is three feet in front of me.

"It's you," he whispered.

Without a doubt, Kon knew he had found his creator. Mayuri Kurotsuchi.

The name was one he could never forget. Having conjured up the mod souls, their master insisted they be aware to whom they owed their existence. Afterwards, when Rukia took him in, Kon had never dared ask whether she knew the man or his vicious daughter. It might have been nice to learn that both had been destroyed some point prior to all that or even during the little war Ichigo and his friends started to get Rukia back. Truth be told, he was too scared to ask about either of them, lest it inadvertently wind up drawing their attention to him. Out of sight, out of mind.

It had worked. Until now. With sudden clarity it dawned upon him that his previous line of thought while traveling through the transportation canals had caused it to bring him here, where his demonic progenitor resided in a state that defied anything Kon could work out on his own. Had this been done to him? Could it be another experiment the sadomasochistic genius was conducting? Was he even alive in there? Oddly enough he got the feeling that whatever this glass house might be, Mayuri hadn't entered it willingly. And if any part of him still existed he definitely wasn't enjoying himself. Not if that deranged expression was any indication. Most likely he doesn't even know I'm here.

Kon stared at his captive creator. The lights pulsed around them slowly, and neither said a word or made a move towards each other.

I never really thought about it before, but if given the opportunity, what I really wanted to say to you was…

"You bastard."

The mod soul braced himself for punishment as a result of such blatant rebellion. Something awful, no doubt. Instead there came only echoes back to him in this deserted sanctum. _Bastard, _they whispered back, _bastard. _He could almost convince himself it was the ghosts of his destroyed kin urging him on, and so Kon took a deep breath and delivered it again, more forcefully, "You _BASTARD!"_

_BASTARD_, the echoes exhorted in appreciation, _BASTARD! _

Kon was breathing heavily now. He gazed into that hated face with the utmost loathing. Some demented part of his brain insisted he heard other voices now. _Say it, _they seemed to insist. _Say what we never dared, for fear of losing even those few precious seconds of life it would cost us. Speak in our defense, brother. Now that he knows how it feels to be trapped and helpless, let him understand all the torment we were put through on account of his depravity!_

All right. I will.

"Tell me why," Kon demanded of that frozen specter. Even if a response was forthcoming, he had already bulled on ahead by that point, driven by the need to release whatever pent-up aggression and hostility had been reawakened by his homecoming. The ghosts of his past required he do nothing less. "Why did you do it? Why go to the trouble of building yourself an army and then erase it without any warning? Why create us if you were just going to destroy us all? It doesn't make any _sense! _Dammit, why didn't you …?"

Words failed him at that point. For a while he could only splutter helplessly. What exactly was he trying to articulate here? How can I get across what he took from us when I'm not even sure myself where he failed my kind? Kon's life had been hell right from first inception. Fear and uncertainty were all he ever knew. Never a kind word, never a sign of parental affection. Except for that one solitary moment, when his mother reached out to pick him up and awaken his heart to something more wonderful than he had never known could exist.

That's it.

"Why didn't you_ CARE?"_

His rage was building to a frenzied pitch. Nothing could stop him now. "Why _didn't_ you care about us, huh? Bastard, you smug stupid BASTARD! We were supposed to fight for you, but you just threw us away! When we needed to be protected, and from the same assholes that tried to execute Rukia! How come you never once tried to save us? We would have… we would have FOUGHT for you, don't you understand? That's what you made us for, it was the whole reason behind our being! And before we could even get a chance to prove ourselves, you…!"

Still nothing happened. This only served to stoke the fires of his vehemence.

"Think it was impossible to give a crap about a bunch of lab samples? Well, shows how much you really know! I mean, Rukia cared about me, enough to step up and face down Sandal Hat, anyway! And she didn't know anything about me! I mean, besides the basics, I guess, but… how come you couldn't do even that much for just one of us, huh? That would have really proven you were better than Urahara, you know? More than anything else you ever made or thought of or dared to attempt, that's… THAT'S ALL IT WOULD HAVE TAKEN! You could have shown him up and made a name for yourself, but you didn't! The chance was there, and you let it slip away, along with our LIVES!"

Kon vaguely realized he was crying. Not that it mattered now when there were more important things that needed to be said. Things like…

"I hate you."

_Yes, _the others sighed. _More._

"I hate you, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, you warped piece of shit!" he spat with relish, and laughed. It felt like he was going crazy, all furious and exuberant at the same time. But if so he didn't care! This needed to be said, and Kon was the perfect person to say it. "I'm so glad I came back here, because it means I got to see you like this! Better than any present I could ever have asked for on Christmas or my birthday. Whatever stupid crazy thing you did to wind up this way, it is the best gift you could ever have given me. So THANK YOU! THANK YOU for creating me, and THANK YOU for not keeping me, and THANK YOU for going and getting yourself royally screwed! Couldn't have happened to a more deserving fellow, that's for sure! STAY in there, and don't you EVER come out because it's a better fate than you deserve!"

Mayuri's screaming face remained carved from stone without change. Just when it felt like he might be coming down from his anger high, this fact drove Kon completely wild. Without regard for setting off any alarms or how much good it might do, he threw himself forward. "BASTARD!" he roared, and slammed his rage-driven feet right square into that loathsome figure's temple.

His legs exploded.

That was how it felt. Even as the thwarted avenger fell back, wracked with pain so intense he couldn't produce any sound beyond strangled gasps, through tear-filled eyes it became clear his legs remained intact. The hurt was already diminishing, but the aftershocks proved almost as intense as the experience in and of itself. So he simply lay where he had fallen until even those had faded.

Damn you, he thought. Tricky to the end and beyond. You just couldn't let me have my say, could you? Well, I'm still here, after everything you did to me, and you're not. Burn in hell, Kurotsuchi! All of them.

Kon couldn't tell if he was disappointed or relieved Mayuri couldn't hear him. One the one hand, there was no way he could be taken to task for it. While on the other, that had been a pretty sweet rant. A shame the amoral prick wasn't able to respond. Although this was probably the only way he could have pulled off such a stunt and come out alive. All in all, not a bad deal, come to think of it.

Best not to press his luck. So resolved, Kon went about determining how to exit this room. That telepathic subway had proven kind of iffy. One wrong thought and he might wind up swimming in a percolating vat of sewer runoff. Three bad experiences was more than enough. He could walk the rest of the way back from here.

So where to find a door? After briefly inspecting the layout he decided to approach one of the archways set into the wall. Perhaps there was an exit there that responded to proximity? Heck, they had those in mortal world convenience stores, why not here? To his surprise a door really did slide open at his approach. Once more only darkness greeted his eyes, but perhaps the lights would kick on as soon as he was inside.

About to take his first step in, a voice whispered from the shadows. "Hello?"

He froze. It suddenly dawned upon him that he was about to walk into a pitch-black room in the Shinigami R&D Bureau. That ranked right up there with the Top Ten most assured ways to meet an excruciatingly messy end. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

While he pondered, the disembodied voice emerged weakly once more. "Is someone there?"

For some crazy reason Kon could almost convince himself this person sounded familiar. Probably just because everybody sounds the same when they're being tortured. The voice was faint, and his imagination pictured a stringy malnourished wimp chained to a wall. It could be someone really in need of assistance. Another of Mayuri's victims, who had been abandoned after their tormentor's departure and left for dead. Probably without anyone even being aware of his existence. I should try and find out if they need help at least.

Kon edged cautiously a few steps further in. Even like this he was fast enough to outrun anything dangerous. Or at least that was what he hoped. He could still perceive nothing through this impenetrable darkness, and finally decided to locate a light-switch. Spying a panel by the door, the valiant Mini-Mu flew up and flicked it on.

Light came from behind him. Upon turning around, Kon's mouth fell open. A lone spotlight fell to reveal a sight that he would take to his grave.

Inside an odd contraption made of steel pipes and black satin, there hung a man. He was naked save for a pair of skintight shorts and a spiked collar around his neck. Black leather straps together bound his arms behind him. His ankles were connected to his wrists by handcuffs, leaving him bent backwards in what must be an incredibly painful position, especially given that he was dangling from a chain that hooked into those cuffs. Just like a worm on a fishing line. A black mask covered his eyes. Scars decorated his body in the oddest places, and he shivered in the cold.

"Nemu-san?" the captive hazarded anxiously, head jerking blindly from side to side as if trying to focus his hearing. Considering he was missing an ear, that probably didn't help much. "Is that you? Would you let me down now? I don't know how long I've been here, but it's been at least a few hours, and I need to get back before my shift begins. So could we please…?"

Kon couldn't believe what his eyes were telling him. But the voice, along with that soupy frame, told him he was not mistaken.

"HANATARŌ?"

The prisoner shut his mouth with a gasp. After a few seconds in which neither of them dared to speak or move, he finally managed to whisper, "Wh… _who's there?" _

Kon just stared, unable to compute what he was witnessing. Right then the lank-haired medic started twisting around frantically in an effort to escape his bonds. While he did a torrent of words fell from his lips. "Whoever you are… this isn't what it looks like, I swear! This is a joint-loosening exercise, it's for patients that are recovering from convalescence! I mean, it's not an S&M device or anything like that, or… oh mercy. Please don't tell anyone you saw me here! I mean… that is to say, you don't know me, we've never met before, I'm not Hanatarō Yamada!"

A feeling of déjà vu hit. "Then why do you know his _name?"_

"ACK!"

A noise like he was choking indicated Hanatarō might have swallowed his own tongue by that point. But Kon could not even think of how to respond to this. Because right then, a shadow fell over him.

He knew he shouldn't look, only what other option could there be? And when he came about, it therefore came as no surprise to find Nemu Kurotsuchi towering over him. Her soulless stare riveted Kon to the floor so that he couldn't even think of running. Now both he and the bondage nut were reduced to identical quivering puddles of dread.

We're going to die.

Her mouth opened. "You are wanted," was all Nemu said, before bending down to pick Kon up. Tucking him under one arm, she stepped back outside. The door closed behind her.

Hanatarō was left alone swinging slowly back and forth on his tether. After a bit of thought, he resolved not to make any further sound for the foreseeable future. Don't draw attention to yourself. That's how you stay alive in this business.

_You're going to catch a cold._

Thank you, Hisagomaru. Kindly go to sleep now.

* * *

><p>They stopped to rest halfway up the peak in a spot normally reserved for mountain-climbing expeditions. Here where the air was not quite so thin, intrepid daredevils could catch their breath in preparation for the second arduous leg of their journey. Scaling the Andes, even the easy patches, should not be attempted in a foolhardy manner. There was nobody here at this time, and Noboru felt it was the perfect place to perform a little first aid. Of course, Ururu disagreed.<p>

"You should keep moving," she insisted as he settled her gently atop a flattened rock. A strong gust of wind made the girl shiver, it being obvious that her getup was not made for such climes. "The Hunt doesn't need to rest. Whenever you're not running, they're catching up to you."

Noboru simply stuck out his tongue and made a face at her before busily examining the wound. He held her arm at an elevated level to slow the poison's spread. Whatever she might really be, her body was still reacting to the venom, though nowhere near as bad as a normal human. She could still breathe, for starters. And talk. It would be nice to take care of this problem before it got any worse, preferably without the added peril of worrying about being attacked in the midst of healing. However…

"Um, you really should listen to people when they're warning you about terrible danger."

"We've been over this before, I couldn't care less about the danger," he responded flippantly.

He continued his ministrations, hoping that would keep her quiet for a little bit. And that she wouldn't notice his confidence was mostly feigned. He didn't need constant reminders of just how bad the situation might be. Burdened down with her, he had not been able to employ his maximum speed to escape their pursuers. Considering most of them were of the landlocked variety of animal, Noboru had a greater range of movement and could evade them with little effort. It was still unnerving how many had homed in on him in the short time it took to reach this point. Being caught, by anyone, was an unfamiliar sensation in his life. And the way these things persisted in their vendetta was simply unnatural.

He studied Ururu from beneath the veil of his hair. Her face certainly didn't betray any telltale hint of fear at her situation. No way to tell if she was truly scared at being poisoned like this. But in case she really is, guess it couldn't hurt to try and take her mind off it.

"So tell me something," Noboru spoke as casually as he could while caring for her. "Who do I have to thank for the Rabid Hunt being set on me? I don't recall doing anything particularly noteworthy in the last few weeks. Plus that Deepwater Horizon incident was over a year ago, so I'm sure most everybody has forgotten about it by now. Care to let me in?"

"We don't know who sent them, or why they're focusing on you." Ururu winced a little as he pricked her fingertip lightly with Hanuman's point. Good, still registering pain. His soul cutter had now taken the form of a toothpick, the better to hide his spirit signature. Not that it seemed to do much good in terms of the beasts. But at least those creepy shinigami hadn't pounced on him yet. Since she didn't appear to be in danger of dying, he decided to forego any further medical treatment until they reached the catacombs. So now they could have a chat.

Squatting back on his heels, he regarded the strange girl, who didn't bother to meet his gaze. She was too busy flicking her eyes around in search of attackers. More and more he felt convinced of her sincerity. She meant him no harm. But a few things still troubled him.

"So was it a coincidence you showed up right when this Hunt comes sniffing around for me?"

"I can't say. Most likely Yoruichi-sama sensed something was wrong and wanted to see you protected. Are you a friend of hers?"

"Keep your arm up." She complied, and he ignored the question. "So how do I get them off my tail? I mean besides the way you've already suggested," he interrupted as she seemed about to launch into another plea that he turn himself in. "There must be some way to stop these Hollows from finding me."

"Well, there is, but…" Here Ururu's voice got very quiet. Sensing an opening, Noboru leaned in and angled his head until their gazes met. He then adopted his most winning smile.

"Hey, you can tell me, right? Not like we have to do it, I just want to be informed about my options. But if you're worried, I do hereby promise not to go rushing off into anything stupid. Deal?"

With that he clasped her elevated palm. Holding her arm up like this, anybody who could see them might assume he was interrogating her. Far from it. Well, not that he really intended to do anything bad. But taking advantage of people for his own ends was kind of his calling card. And old habits die hard.

_I don't see a problem with it. You're definitely in the right, right?_

Right.

At last Ururu's resistance crumbled in the face of his gentle coaxing. "You have to kill the Hunt Master."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's it? I was expecting there would be more to it. So who is this Master? I thought you said you didn't know who was behind this."

"The Master is a member of the Hunt," she explained. It didn't escape his notice how she kept glancing up at where their hands were touching, nor that the flush in her cheeks seemed to have settled in permanently. "It leads them on their course. Should any of the others die, they just relocate to new bodies. But when the Master falls that ends the Hunt. If you can locate and kill it, the rest will be banished from this plane."

Noboru frowned. "Wait. You mean this Master is inside one of the animals just like all the others?"

"That's right."

This was becoming more and more complicated. "Okay. So… how do you tell which one it is?"

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug, and Noboru gave an exasperated snort. "What, you choose now to stop being _Señorita Enciclopedia?"_

"What I told you is only a theory. Not much is known about the Wild Hunt."

"But somebody must have met this Hunt Master before, otherwise why even give it a name?"

Ururu managed to look even more dejected than usual. "Not that I know of. The Hunt Master's existence has never been proven. But it's an explanation that makes sense considering what's been observed."

"Like a black hole," Noboru opined brightly. "Nobody's seen one, but what other reason could there be for galaxies disappearing, right?"

She shrugged again.

"Kill the Master. Okay, let's get right on that." He stood up and unleashed Hanuman. The thrum of his spiritual power made the air crackle.

That cute little face took on a shade of alarm. "Wait, you said…!"

"Yeah, I know what I said." He turned to look back at her. "I said it, after all. But I was lying. Hope you're not too mad."

Ururu looked at him for a while, then dropped her eyes. "I'm not. It's just… you can't hurt them, can you? You're a spirit."

"Pft!" he blew out his bangs with a snort. "There's lots of ways to kill things if you think about it." The grinning outdoorsman then gestured over the wide expanse of steep mountains and plummeting drops. "Not that it matters. Once we're in the catacombs there's no way they'll ever find us. That'll give me time to…"

No scream. No sense of peril. A rush of air was all the warning he got. But it was enough to send Noboru vaulting nimbly off to the side as something went streaking by. Finding purchase on thin air, he located this new enemy as it banked around for another attack.

The sight was so shocking he nearly dropped his pole.

"Pluma!"

The gyrfalcon flapped its powerful wings to ride high on a gust of biting wind, then folded them in and dove towards him. Noboru started forward only to brake suddenly, uncertain what to do. That was his friend attacking him!

_Forget it, just kill the beast! Or run! Leave the girl and save yourself!_

No! I'm not going to do that, so just shut up, you stupid monkey!

He came back to himself in time to see curved talons snapping out. Instinctively he interposed Hanuman, only for Pluma to pass through the weapon like it wasn't there. Then it was just feathers slapping his face madly, claws and beak striking with deadly precision while Noboru screamed in terror as the beautiful bird sought to rip out his eyes.

The vicious assault stopped without warning. Peering out from behind his upraised arms, he saw Ururu floating a few paces off holding the struggling gyrfalcon by its neck. As it emitted high-pitched shrieks and struggled madly for freedom, the girl casually reached up to grasp hold of its lower body. Just like she had with the monkey.

"NO!"

Without thinking he swung Hanuman. The staff sprung to several yards in length and took Ururu in the side. He saw her wince in pain as she was flung away to go tumbling down a ravine. Pluma plummeted to earth, sliding and flopping awkwardly as she hit ground.

Noboru shook with the realization of what he had just done. "Oh hell," he breathed. An instant later the boy shot down until he had caught up with Ururu, catching her by one hand and bringing her descent to a halt. Soon they were back atop the bluff. The boy realized he was shaking. Ashamed, he fiercely ground his teeth in an effort to master himself and glanced about for Pluma. The avian hunter lay unmoving a ways off, dead or unconscious.

As the tiny waif stirred in his grasp, he glanced over at her anxiously, blurting out, "I'm sorry, so sorry, but you can't do that! Don't… don't kill her, all right? You can't do that again! Ever!" He was gabbling. And crying. Neither of which could help in this situation. That much became obvious fast, so he resolutely stopped doing both. Self-control seemed in short supply at this time, though. When she finally looked at him, the most he could manage was to almost sob, "Are you all right?"

As he spoke, the world went dark.

It felt as if a cloud passed over face of the sun, in more ways than one. A cold that defied any simple temperature drop made his very spirit shudder. When Noboru Kouki looked up, however, there was no such thing. Instead blotting out the sky for a league in every direction hovered a flock of birds like a great dark mass of smog. He saw vultures, condors, parrots, Manakins, and Cocks-of-the-Rock, in such numbers that their combined presence blotted out the sun. It was as though an eclipse had settled on the land.

The forest spirit swallowed against a fear threatening to claw its way up his throat. That wasn't the only thing. When he looked down the situation was even worse than he had thought. Swarming up the slopes of the mountain came an army of mad creatures. He saw giant armadillos and ocelots, night monkeys and wild boars, even capybara and chinchilla of all things. Apparently the Hunt was not very discriminate in what forms they chose.

A burning pain and the feel of blood running down his cheeks reminded him not to underestimate this enemy. Noboru glanced around. They were surrounded. To reach the catacombs they would have to break through the perimeter. While he could probably still outrun any of them on his own, he had already determined not to leave Ururu behind. That precluded any use of flash step.

_She'll be just as dead if you try to fight your way through all that. And you will be too. What's the point of sacrificing yourself?_

I won't live at someone else's expense.

_This is suicide._

We can agree on that much.

_How fair is it to take me down with you, huh? Got a smart-ass answer for that?_

I'm sorry. But you can't say this comes as a surprise.

_No. I guess not. Okay, that's enough talk. Let's rumble!_

As usual, his zanpakutō's mercurial nature adapted to any given situation. Seeing as how the enemy already knew where he was, there was no sense in holding back anymore. Let's see if a little defensive kidō can't even the odds! Bringing a hand up before his face, he intoned the prayer. "Bakudō #73: Tozanshō!"

The blue pyramid had just shimmered into existence around them when a pressure built up in his ears like they were going to pop. The next thing Noboru knew, a tornado came roaring up out of the ravine right in front of him, tearing into the flock of Wild birds and scattering them across the heavens. He could only stare in disbelief.

_Wow. Never saw Descending Mountain Crystal do that before._

I don't think that was me.

Another colossal presence unloaded onto his senses. This time he was pretty sure what was going on. So when he came around and found one very angry ninja woman glaring at him outside his spell, he knew his luck had turned. Though whether for the better or not remained to be seen, considering the way that Roberta chick was looking at him.

* * *

><p>Any outsiders would only see a human-sized missile of yellow energy streaking past the tree-line and up the mountain slopes. If that. This living bullet weaved around any obstacles, including the possessed Hunt, finally taking to the air to zip over their backs when the press became too thick.<p>

Soifon blazed past the stampeding horde so fast they might as well have been plow horses lumbering in their traces. This gave her no pride, however. Even if she reached Masahiko and Ururu, there was precious little she could do to help them like this. Have to try and spirit the boy out quickly. If the golem proved a burden, she would be left behind.

_Priorities._

At last she homed in on Ururu's locator beacon. Coming out beyond the vanguard of the approaching swell, Soifon stopped on a dime to leave streamers of spiritual power dissipating in her wake. There she found Masahiko and the girl hunched over what looked to be a wounded falcon. He was bleeding from cuts on his face and arms, and had gathered a protective barrier around them. His self-confidence held as much recklessness as it did ignorance. Bakudō could dissuade the living from entering an area but not truly repel unless they happened to be spiritually sensitive. Then their own strength would work against them so that they felt the full force of the warding. Such a person could actually be healed of a physical wound should a shinigami apply a restorative charm. Kidō's effectiveness depended on the power of the person behind the conjuring along with the one it was used upon.

But the Hunt was not a natural expression of spiritual energy. They did not enhance the animals' aura by any degree, and could breach any seals thanks to their suits of flesh. They were anathema to the living, their malignant essence killing their hosts as surely as anything. Eventually every animal here would be dead. Even a captain held hardly any advantage in a predicament such as this. Her power could not breach mortal skin to exorcise the demon within.

Fortunately Lady Yoruichi had foreseen such a problem and made sure a remedy would exist.

"BAN-KAI: TENRYŌMARU!"

From within the precipice erupted an explosion of force both otherworldly and not. There then emerged a tremendous column of whirling air. It tore across the landscape like a giant drill, cracking apart the very stone at its base along with anything unfortunate enough to cross its path in the heavens. A condensed tornado, this outpouring of primordial power came in response to the summons of a wind sorcerer so mighty he had refused entry into both the Council of 46 and Squad Zero. A longstanding relationship and the trust of Commander-General Yamamoto earned consideration of his wishes in that respect.

Now the Gale Lord, Chōjirō Sasakibe, floated at the eye of this storm, barely visible and registering mainly as an unleashed power loci.

At a gesture from him, the vortex roared off to the left, bearing its creator with it. Like a contained natural disaster, this powerful man decimated the avian congregation, scattering its component parts to the winds. In spite of herself Soifon could not help but be impressed by the display. Even a soul as powerful as her own had limits, especially in terms of the material realm. While her zanpakutō could kill a score of Hollows or other unearthly entities with no effort, its effect upon flesh and blood hardly registered. Were she to use Suzumebachi on a mortal, even with two consecutive hits, they would not register any injury. Only those spirits who held ghastly strength that defied anything normally associated even with squad leaders, like the former Fourth Squad captain, could affect the living with impunity.

That was where elemental zanpakutō held a distinct advantage. Their expression in spiritual form also included a corresponding impact in this world. Fire zanpakutō whose flames were invisible to mortal eyes could still burn them as effectively as any natural heat source. An ice zanpakutō could freeze a river or even a sea depending upon its wielder's strength. The power of Hyōrinmaru, wielded by Captain Tōshirō Hitsugaya, potentially heralded a new Ice Age for any region in which he exercised its full strength. And that was when he had yet to attain full maturity. Had Yamamoto Genryusai-Shigekuni been less chary of his own strength, he might have incinerated a continent at any given time. Which was why the Commander-General hardly ever ventured forth into battle upon mortal soil for concern of the havoc that might result.

Sasakibe's virulent whirlwind retreated further from their location. All the same, Soifon sought shelter behind the boy's kidō spell to escape the violent gusts of wind emitted by her elder's bankai. While a terrific weapon, Tenryōmaru also represented a threat to the very people Chōjirō sought to protect. It was necessary to keep his distance from them lest they be blown away, and this allowed the Hunt an opportunity to close on their position. Also he could not move the twister with much speed or it might go out of control, meaning the Hollow scum could employ their relatively greater speed to try and maneuver around the perimeter of his defense.

Chōjirō knew his limitations, and so did she. He had acted only to break any concerted assault the Hunt attempted. Now that their lines were scattered, it fell to Soifon and the gigai to attend to their charge. This distraction would prove sufficient.

_Vanish._

Drawing her soul cutter from its sheathe, Soifon slid it smoothly straight out before her. In response a shoji door automatically materialized and opened wide allowing the light of the afterlife to gleam through. Additionally three hell butterflies emerged to flap around her head just as had been arranged.

The feral-eyed assassin cast a baleful look at her uncooperative target. Masahiko remained on alert at her presence. An admirable survival trait, but not in this situation. His rebellious behavior ended now.

"No more running, boy," Soifon stated in a voice cold as winter. "Come with us if you value your soul."

He did not take her well-intentioned assurance very kindly. In fact, the lad actually regarded his rescuer with the same wariness he had the approaching swarm. Clearly his upbringing must have been lacking if he could not recognize an honest offer of aid when it was presented. It might be necessary to employ force after all if his brain could not be relied upon to act in a reasonable manner.

Soifon kept her gaze trained on the boy, who stared fiercely right back. Her hand, however, moved ever so slightly, fingertips touching in a brief sequence that Ururu would recognize. _'Neutralize the target while his back is turned'_, she was telling her. The rescue operation would commence as soon as he had been incapacitated. Then they would all depart this sphere without having to confront the Wild Hunt. That was the most satisfactory conclusion.

Masahiko planted the tip of his pole into the ground with a determined air. "Do it and I'll smack your butt, Ururu!" he huffed bluntly, not even sparing a glance behind him.

Her accomplice looked to Soifon in search of further orders. For her part the captain was considering just smashing through the barrier and dragging him into the gate, niceties be damned, when the kid spoke up again. "You, Hatchet Face. Answer me one thing: what's going to happen with this Hunt thing if I go with you?"

He didn't appear bothered at how pockets of that very same threat were drawing closer to them over rock and on the wing. It was only due to their impending peril that Soifon deigned to respond. "They will remain behind. The Hunt cannot follow us into Soul Society, so you will be safe there."

"And what about them?" The brat hiked a thumb over his shoulder at the approaching demons.

Annoyance flashed and was quickly suppressed. "Without a target they will rampage until nightfall, after which their hosts will be destroyed and the Hunt either returns to Hueco Mundo or remains at large until dawn. None of which should concern you. A brigade of shinigami will be notified to deal with them after we leave. That is all we can do."

In seconds there would be no choice but to fight. Fortunately Soifon noticed their gigai had appeared further down the path and would soon be available to attend their masters. She could inhabit her own again while Chōjirō's would provide support, considering he was more dangerous in spirit form. Still, that was not a desirable solution. Best to leave before the fighting started. This flippant urchin must be put to rights regarding…

"NO! It's NOT right!"

To her amazement the boy went striding outside of his spell, causing it to dissipate immediately. So taken aback was she at this move that Soifon almost let him go. Fortunately instinct sent her snapping forth to catch hold of him by the wrist before he could elude her. Masahiko whirled around to send a furious glare at Soifon which the shinigami gladly returned.

"They hurt my friend!" he spit. "And no way am I letting something like this run loose in my home. There are lots of people living nearby who might get hurt. The animals too! They don't deserve what's been done to them!"

She yanked him towards her with a hiss, outraged at this presumption. "We are leaving. End of discussion!"

"Killing their leader ends this whole mess!" the black-haired youth insisted stubbornly, leveling a finger at where Ururu continued to watch them with a neutral expression. "She said so, and that's what we should do!"

Soifon had heard enough. Without further ado she spun and stalked on towards the open gate. Masahiko dug his heels in to slow her advance as he was dragged unceremoniously behind. Insufferable child. The captain reflected on how very satisfying it would be to simply knock him unconscious with one precise blow to the head.

_Careful._

Agreed. The way he was struggling she might damage his brain by accident. No need for that. Her hold on him was secure. If he tried to bite her, she would pinch his nostrils so he couldn't breathe. Should he use his zanpakutō, she would break his arm. And no one can perform kidō after you punch them in the solar plexus. She needed only another moment to get him to safety, after which there would be no more talk of right or wrong. Just done! He could not escape her now.

Masahiko didn't attempt to escape by fighting. Or biting. Or even casting a spell.

Instead he simply grabbed Soifon's ass and squeezed.

A jolt shocked through her soul. The sound she made was somewhere between outraged war whoop and startled yelp. Her assailant made full use of this outrageous predicament. He twisted and yanked back, slender wrist slipping out of her grasp with the ease of a greased pig. Masahiko danced away even as she spun to apprehend him, face burning and shamed in a way the phantom ninja had never believed possible. The smile he wore had her aching to pull his teeth out one by one.

"I'll draw out the Master so you can kill it," the little tripe shouted in challenge. "And you better do it quick, Sweet Buns! Otherwise I swear you'll never get me to Soul Society alive." He turned away and winked at her over one shoulder. "Catch me if you can!"

So saying Masahiko took a running leap off the ledge.

As she leapt to give chase, the Wild Hunt rose around them.

They came in their thousands, some by way of the trails, others simply dragging themselves tortuously up steep cliffs of ice and stone. The sheer amount and diversity of the approaching army was enough to give anyone pause. It looked as though the Amazonian jungle had disgorged every possible variety of beast whether it crawl, leap or burrow. The noise they made could actually be heard over Sasakibe's windstorm it was so all-encompassing. Bloodthirsty madness ascended the peak in search of their souls.

Her gigai sprang over the lip of the precipice bare seconds ahead of the Hunt, followed closely by its partner. Not a moment too soon. Soifon altered her course to snap across the space between them and dove into it, reclaiming a material form. In the brief moment it took to readjust herself she noticed her limbs were trembling from a hellish rage unlike any she had known before. The Hunt itself could not match the fury that burned inside her heart. Whatever Lady Yoruichi wanted with that boy she hoped it would prove painful and gut-wrenching.

Before her a giant anteater had heaved its unwieldy frame onto the ledge first. Upon sighting the three warriors arrayed for battle, the hairy brute quivered but did not attack. Instead it cast its beady black eyes in the direction Masahiko had gone. Its attention was off her for less than a second. A fatal error, as proven when Soifon's foot came down hard on its back to the accompaniment of every bone in its frame snapping at once. She then used it as a footstool to propel herself over the drop, crying out as she did, "Bakudō #7: _Stair of Starlight!"_

Several transparent planes formed in midair, visible only to her. Landing lightly she leapt from one to another. Physical form included limits for her as well as the Hunt. She could not fly like this, but there were other means at her disposal. The captain shot a look towards the military-grade gigai where it stood atop the bluff. "Kill all that you can!" she snarled.

The faux soul saluted and proceeded to produce various weapons from their concealment on his person. While only a gikongan, any support it could provide was helpful. Each enemy dispatched might prove to be the elusive Hunt Master. Ururu had already taken her cue and was gliding swiftly down to meet the mad menagerie. Apparently Urahara had designed her body so that it could float even in the material world, much in the manner of a Quincy. That feature would prove quite useful in fending off the Hunt.

Of course, Soifon had no intention of following that brat's commands. It became apparent the other animals were no longer scaling the bluff. Instead they all turned as one to focus on the boy, and she must do the same. Locating him proved easy. There he was far below in the thick of things. Her teeth clenched. He was right in the press. If she immobilized him with kidō now the pack would strip him to the bone. And he knew it, the dirty little cockroach! That was why he risked death by heading straight into their lines.

Not that he appeared to be in any danger from them. Animals and insects tore over each other in their desperation to reach him, but none could lay a claw on Masahiko. He leapt through those throngs with devilish grace and hoots of mocking encouragement. "Try again, almost got me!" the urchin sang as a crazed cockatiel snapped its beak futilely. By his behavior one would never know he was the target of an ancient horror even captain-level shinigami did not challenge lightly.

It looked as though the tips of his pole were encased in small blue glowing pyramids. A pointy-eared cat scrambled over the stone, claws sliding out in preparation to tear him apart. Masahiko twisted to one side and his zanpakutō smacked the feline as it hurtled by. To her surprise, the blow sent it off course to go tumbling against several of its cohorts so that all went down the mountainside in a tangle of screaming fur. How did he do that?

"Is that all you got?" Masahiko sang while floating over the heads of his pursuers. "I've seen worse behavior at petting zoos!"

When a wild dog propelled itself off a deer's back to snap savagely at his bare feet, it only elicited a disdainful laugh. He watched as it fell short to land in a graceless heap. "You'll never take me down like this! Come on, Hunt Master!" and the exuberant ghost went whirling off, dragging the host along like a magnet. "Show yourself!"

His blue-tipped spear snaked out to poke a red-furred monkey in its snarling face. That hairy head shook as though dazed before launching in pursuit. Bakudo #68, Soifon realized. And #73. _Ascending_ and _Descending Mountain Crystal_. The one imprisoned a target while the other kept enemies from breaking in. Linking them together like that was similar to bringing magnets of the same polarity in close proximity. The two repelled and amplified one another at the same time. In this case that opposition translated to a force that could actually be felt even by non-spirit entities. The experience for any living form struck by his weapon now would be similar to getting hit with a very light pillow. More confusing than painful. Still, that was better than nothing. It was a highly advanced technique, and not something one could devise on their own unless they were a genius.

Who _was_ this boy?

An assortment of scavenger birds and their smaller tropical cousins flew in his direction. Before they got halfway there, a spiral of wind blasted them away like dead leaves. Chōjirō still employed his ban-kai to keep the Hunt from fully focusing its superior numbers on them. Smaller cyclones emerged from the great churning vortex like branches off a tree to go waving wildly about. None of them could approach the Shihoin elder inside his tower of rampant gales. But this would not last. Even a shinigami captain could not keep ban-kai going indefinitely. And they had not truly decreased the Hunt's numbers. Each one slain simply laid claim to a new body elsewhere. The only advantage being that any available animals had already fled in panic and it would take time for them to make their way back here. But night must eventually fall, in which case the situation grew even more perilous.

Not that Masahiko seemed concerned. "Come on, show yourself, coward!" the boy continued to shout his challenges while evading attacks from above and below with ease._ "_Does the Master lead or does he follow? Maybe you're busy sweeping up all the dung dropped by this parade, eh? Or could it b-AHH!"

This cry of pain alerted Soifon to another threat. Even as she dashed from one transparent support to another the boy clutched at his side frantically, losing his previous agility in the process. A six-foot bear took this opportunity to rise up on its hind legs and sink its fangs into his bare arm with a glad roar. Masahiko let out a scream and jabbed it in the eye with his soul cutter, but the beast only grunted before dropping down on all fours, bringing him with it.

The Wild Hunt pounced.

* * *

><p>Nanao Ise reflected on her next item of business as she crossed the courtyard between the gates and the main house. It was a modest home really, located in a glade at the center of a thriving forest on the outskirts of what had once been the 80th ring. Small for a family, but large enough for one man. From the outside one might even get the impression that a person of prominence did reside here. The building quality was visible even by the outer wall that ringed it. Very good upkeep; no doubt his former comrades wanted to make certain the man who lived here be afforded his due. He had always been a courteous figure, even to those far beneath his station. Perhaps this owed to a determination to never forget his humble beginnings. Or perhaps he simply did not wish to create further ill will on top of any undue misgivings concerning his appearance.<p>

Learning the location of this deserted locale had proven less difficult than arranging a return to Soul Society in the first place. The small estate was a gift given to the former Seventh Squad captain following his loss of power during the Autumn War. He initially refused the much more grandiose offering courtesy of Lord-Captain Kuchiki. A sense of self-disparagement might have actually seen that once mighty figure living as an outcast in the woods, but Kyoraku Shunsui took the fallen warrior aside and encouraged him to accept a modest retirement villa courtesy of his own noble family.

Owing to a sense of obligation more than anything else, Saijin Komamura relented.

Upon reaching the manor's entrance she knocked before settling in to wait politely. Her former comrade lived alone, without even the presence of any servants to attend him. Isshin had assured her there was no need to call beforehand as Komamura would undoubtedly appreciate the company anyway. This assurance did nothing to lessen the discomfort engendered in Nanao at intruding upon a highly sensitive and perhaps even somewhat deranged individual.

A minute passed and still no one came in response. She knocked once more for the sake of decorum before resolving to wait again.

_Before you leave, try and steal a hank of his fur! You're fast enough now, and you know we always wanted to do that!_

I will not be drawn into a discussion on the subject one way or another.

Ureshii Onnanoko pouted while her mistress resumed a respectful vigil. She could wait all day if need be. Whatever her own feelings on the subject, Saijin Komamura deserved to be accorded respect.

_Nanao._

I already told you-

_Something's wrong. You need to go in now._

About to reproach the blade for this lapse of manners, Ise hesitated. Her guardian spirit was not teasing this time. She felt that much. With it came a sense of unease, as if the situation might be off. Their long relationship had taught her not to disregard Ureshii's warnings as they never came lightly.

Nanao breathed out slowly before reaching forward to press upon the door. It opened at a touch, which came as no surprise. In her current frame of mind everything held cause for concern. Once inside she closed it softly behind her before stealing down the corridor. It was not a large dwelling, but considering the lack of anything resembling spirit power held by the owner, she could no longer sense his location as readily as before.

Where to now?

_The central garden. Hurry, I think they know we're here._

She wasted no time. The layout of the grounds was known to her, and in no time at all the sorceress had flash-stepped along several paper-walled lanes to at last come out on a set of paper doors that led outside. A brief whispered kidō created an invisible shield on her arm. Now reasonably secure, she resolutely slid aside the screen.

A tranquil little yard greeted her eyes. In one corridor there stood a lone sakura tree whose branches were reflected in the surface of a small pond. Several well-maintained bushes dotted the perimeter, while at the center of this idyllic refuge there was a small area that had been converted into the purposes of a vegetable garden.

Crouched on his knees with his back to her was Saijin Komamura.

"Captain?"

Nanao rebuked herself even as the word left her lips. An old habit was hard to break. Her faux pas went unnoticed, however. The giant did not stir. He remained immobile as a tree stump. For some reason this fact made her skin grow cold. He should have heard her. If nothing else, Komamura's phenomenal ears had not diminished as a result of losing shinigami powers. Something must be wrong then.

_I don't feel anyone else. Whoever was with him is gone._

No sense asking how she knew someone was here to begin with. Concern for Komamura took over then. Nanao rushed to his side, hesitating upon once more gaining no reaction. By no breath or other sign did he appear to be alive. Have I arrived too late?

"Saijin-san?"

Her hand reached out to touch his shoulder.

Golden eyes came up to regard her. "Yes?"

Nanao nearly jumped. For a while the two of them just stared at one another; her in disbelief, him without any sign of disturbance. He did not even appear surprised to find her in his home uninvited. Really, this was all too much.

"Sir," the Mistress of Paperwork began warily, still alert for anything out of sorts in the environment, "Are you all right?"

Saijin blinked slowly.

"I fell asleep."

He gave a great yawn, muzzle opening to reveal glistening fangs even while his eyes shut tight. Pointed ears twitched when the wolf-headed warrior shook himself as if to dispel any remnants of sleep. Then he clambered upright and looked down at her. "How may I be of help to you, Ise-san?"

This was utterly bizarre. Once more she scoured the garden in search of anything to explain the situation. "Was there someone else just here? I thought… I heard you conversing."

Komamura tilted his head, gaze growing distant for a time. "I was talking in my sleep. Nothing more."

_He seems pretty certain of that._

Too certain.

"Sir, I would like…"

"The Wild Hunt."

Nanao stopped talking. She studied him speculatively before hazarding the obvious question. "How did you know?"

The beast-man looked down at her from his great height in silence. At last his head turned to regard the sky. "I had a bad dream," he stated finally. With that Komamura shuffled about and moved towards the entrance. "Won't you please come inside? We can talk in the kitchen. I set a pot of tea to brew. It should be done by now."

Uncertain how to respond, the sharp-eyed lieutenant studied his retreating back.

_He seems out of it. Maybe we should go?_

Nanao did not even bother to think her refusal. Something was clearly amiss, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

_Nanao, look at his feet. _

She obeyed. Almost immediately it became obvious what was wrong.

_Those aren't house shoes he's wearing. They're meant for a journey. He was going somewhere. Or he just came back._

She considered this clue. You might not think it to look at him now, but Saijin Komamura was once an elite fighter and wizard in the afterlife, as well as being a man the former Commander-General endowed with the leadership of a division in the Gotei 13. If ever there had been a person to trust among their ranks it had been him.

But more importantly, he was also one of two captains that had been tasked with obliterating the Wild Hunt on its last recorded appearance thirty years ago.

There were things only he could be relied upon to tell her for sure. And so Nanao followed her host indoors to learn everything there might be to know about that long-ago battle.

* * *

><p>When the spectacled bear grabbed hold of him, Noboru was still too astonished to really notice it. He couldn't tell where the agony in his side had come from. Hadn't noticed anything coming. How did it get this high?<p>

It was then he felt the fangs piercing his flesh. Never before had the young spirit felt such pain as when the bear bit into him. His dual spells had dissipated when his concentration was broken. Screaming in panic he attempted to blind his attacker, only to have it barely register this assault. It bore him to the ground in a rush that almost had him passing out from shock alone. What followed was the sickest, most frightening experience of his whole existence as dozens of insane beasts ringed his helpless form. He wanted to shout at them to stop, they didn't know what they were doing. He wanted to help them.

No sound left his throat. And it wouldn't have mattered anyway. With mindless roars the whole savage lot fell upon him.

There came a faint whisper of noise, like a person trying to whistle who didn't know how. Then Noboru found himself rolling free. At first he thought the great canine had released him, only when he looked down its jaws were still clamped tight around his bloodied ankle.

His freedom came owing to the fact that the bear's head was no longer attached to its body.

The decapitated torso flopped over onto one side. As he stared into the animal's glassy dead eyes, a hand grabbed hold of its snout and wrenched upwards. His astonished gaze then traveled up to find the shinigami woman standing protectively athwart him with weapon drawn.

Her sword arm licked out again and again. Wherever that bright blade flashed another forsaken husk fell, its blood steaming in the cold air. She twisted and spun in one spot with grim precision. The solidified soul cutter moved without any consideration for mortal limits. Death rode along every swipe of its edge, while her free hand sent sharpened missiles flying in all directions. Her feet moved to kick any vanquished opponents away before their bodies even touched the ground so that they bowled into those pressing behind them. In just a few seconds a space had been cleared around them where moments past there had seemed no alternative but that they be completely overwhelmed.

Noboru stared at his rescuer. She was not even breathing hard. Narrowed black eyes zipped from side to side in search of prey. For the time being nothing approached them, held back by a wall of corpses she had fashioned. He could not take his own eyes off her. Nothing else existed in the world save for the sight of that killer robed in black.

At last he noticed all the blood and organs, and it made his face twist in fury.

"HEY!" the outraged loner scrambled to his feet. "Who said you could kill them, huh? Just the Hunt Master! Don't hurt the rest, _comprende?_!"

She grabbed him roughly by the back of the neck and flung him down with the same violence as the Hunt. Noboru managed to spin onto his back right as her foot planted in his sternum and her sword drove straight for his face.

_She's attacking!_

This time there was no disbelief or confusion left. He saw the soul cutter swing down and reacted on instinct. Hanuman swept up, a shout of, "EXTEND!" barely off Noboru's lips before the magic staff shot out with the force of a cannon at this range. Remarkably she managed to move aside to keep her head from being torn off like the bear. Instead it just clocked her in the shoulder. A wet crunching sang clearly to his ears.

Before he could finish the job, something fell towards his face to pass right through it. This startled him enough to turn his head for confirmation. There on the rock lay a tarantula hawk; the large wasp, its sting infamous for killing spiders as hosts for larvae, had been cut in half. It was only then he noticed several others just like it alongside their colleague, all bisected with surgical precision.

_That's what stung you before. So small neither of us noticed. She must have seen them coming. Sorry._

The woman's accusing stare hurt more than a slap in the face. She dropped down beside him so fast he flinched. "I cannot save you if you insist on being stupid," her voice rasped coldly.

Masahiko gawked in a way that made him feel just as pathetic as her expression clearly spelled him out to be. Self-reproach rose inside and he tore away from her. His face red with shame, he could feel his spiritual power rising as a result.

"I DON'T NEED YOU! GET OUT OF MY WAY AND I'LL FINISH THIS MYSELF!"

_Idiot._

SHUT UP!

Everything in his whole world had gone to hell. He had to set it right with his own hands or nothing would ever be the same again. Self-sufficient. That was the most important aspect of his personality. You solve your own problems in your own way. Run. Fight. Steal. Whatever got you what you wanted. However any plan of action was put on hold as more enemies came hurtling down from the peaks above them. Goats and alpaca; harmless under normal circumstances, but now their mad animal strength was sufficient to crush a person.

Noboru wasted no time in leaping to meet the thundering herd. "COME GET ME!" he bellowed in challenge. "I'M THE ONE YOU WANT!"

The woman appeared beside him and grabbed hold of his collar. She then jumped straight ahead to pass above the herd, taking Noboru with her. At the same time one hand slipped into her tunic and produced several steel-tipped darts which she flung with unerring accuracy into that oncoming mass. Where they landed explosions rocked the mountain, sending small avalanches of broken rock cascading down along with the bloodied remains of several hooved beasts. The debris also served to injure or incapacitate a good many others as well. Meanwhile Roberta was carrying him towards the dimensional passage she had first opened.

_Maybe it's time to take them up on their offer? We don't seem to be doing much good, after all. And even if it is a trap I think we can get away from them once we're clear of this mess. What do you say?_

That won't save any lives except my own.

_That's one more than you'll save by sticking around here._

I'll show you. And her too!

Hanuman's tip drove into her injured shoulder, causing the woman to release him with a hiss of pain. Instantly she turned to grab him again. Noboru leveled a finger at her. "Byakurai!" he cried, and a bolt of white lightning sizzled forth.

Roberta sprang aside, but instead of flying as she had been doing up 'til now, to his surprise she went plummeting earthwards where the Hunt waited to feast. Noboru froze. No, that's not what I wanted! I was just trying to ward her off!

"Extend!"

Before he could wonder why he had sent his pole winging down so that it stretched between her and the ground. "Grab hold!" he shouted.

The woman behaved as though this was all choreographed, one hand wrapping around the smooth red shaft and flipping round its length with increasing speed before letting go to fly back into the air. She proceeded to land atop an empty patch of air that indescribably held her weight. Noboru squinted bewilderedly as Hanuman retracted. Did nothing make sense in the world anymore?

As if to confirm this, the black-eyed huntress he had just saved whipped out a long chain from her sleeve to go winding towards him. But the youth proved too quick, leaping high with an angry shout to avoid the snare.

"You ungrateful b-!"

Unfortunately he had forgotten she was not alone. Noboru was reminded of that fact when a pair of small hands seized the arm that held his zanpakutō and wrenched it sharply behind him, leaving the boy dangling helplessly above a sea of grinding teeth and slavering jaws.

Floating at his back, Ururu looked up at her mistress before turning morose eyes in Noboru's direction. _"Baka," _she murmured in a distinctly accusing tone.

A vulture striving to head their way was cut in half as Roberta dropped down to join them. One arm hung limp from where Hanuman had struck it, but if the loss troubled her it did not show. "Come," she ordered peremptorily and proceeded once again towards the gate with Ururu and Noboru now following behind. There seemed no way out. Elsewhere that unnatural windstorm still served to prevent any large force from approaching them up here. Bits and pieces of critters torn apart by opposing hurricane-force winds rained all against the ground. The girl kept a firm hold on his arm. It was clear she had training in submission techniques; there would be no simply wiggling away from her. Counters to this hold did exist, but they all involved injury to your opponent.

Which left only one recourse. How ironic.

Noboru abruptly cut off his natural levitation, causing him to plunge down in a sharp drop. Taken by surprise, Ururu's grip still did not lessen. Not that it mattered. In fact he had counted on it. Of course, even foreknowledge was not enough to prepare him as the tendons and ligaments in his shoulder ground unnaturally in their rest. This was followed by the sudden violent dislocation of his arm in a way that would permanently cripple a mortal.

Even as he cried out at the pain, Noboru had already turned that self-inflicted injury to his advantage. He employed his hard-won increase in maneuverability to twist around until he faced his captor. After this the determined youth performed a flip in midair. The move caused him even more serious damage and he felt close to blacking out, but it was worth it. Because as a result Ururu lost her grip on him, and he was free.

She reached out to capture him once again. All too slow. Neither she nor the woman were fast enough while encumbered by the demands of the flesh. An instant later Noboru was a hundred meters overhead, watching with glee as their heads turned to follow his successful escape.

This high up he could actually see the Wild Hunt start to shift in response to his movements. Birds on the wing accompanied by insects both venomous and not tore upwards at his position. It would take them a while to reach this altitude, by which point he would have already moved on. Still just a bunch of dumb animals in the end. The pair of human hunters were standing side by side staring up at him. Avian predators streamed past without seeming to notice their existence now that neither of them was putting up any resistance. Even from this far away the woman's face held a promise of fearful vengeance. In spite of the excruciating pain still burning in his arm, the Monkey Prince couldn't help but laugh at her helplessness.

"You'll never catch me!" he crowed triumphantly. "Better get to work finding that Hunt Master, _abuelita! _Otherwise I'm not going anywhere with you!"

Her fierce black eyes narrowed in on him as if tasting his blood. She reached up and laid what looked to be a restraining hand on Ururu's shoulder.

A second later she had whipped out her katana and placed the edge against the little girl's throat.

_The hell? _

Noboru flinched, unwilling to believe what he was seeing. He just hung there gaping speechless. The approach of several Hunt members galvanized him to action and he sped with godlike swiftness to a different location. While they were checking their course to pursue him, he heard the ninja's voice over the howling gale.

"I am through being reasonable with you, boy," her shout carried a chill deep into his soul. "If you are so concerned about letting other people die, then surrender yourself at once. Otherwise I take her head."

Ururu did not so much as blink at this statement. She hadn't reacted at all to being held hostage like this. What the hell was wrong with her? No way she would actually let that lunatic cut her head off, right?

_I think they both mean it._

"Y…" His throat felt dry with horror. The angry ghost swallowed down any horror and zipped closer to them, never letting his gaze leave that of the lady in black. "You're bluffing, shinigami! If you think I'll fall for…!"

As he spoke, the ninja reached down and grasped Ururu by an elbow, raising her arm overhead. Her katana flashed, and a moment later a tiny black-clad arm fell towards the ground far below, whipping around the windswept aerie and trailing bright red drops of blood.

In the time it took his eyes to travel back up from that ghastly sight her bloodied sword had returned to its position next to the maiden's pale neck. The scarlet substance dripped down Ururu's skin, as if she already had her throat slit. Each of them regarded him with stares as cold as death itself.

_Waste that bitch._

I can't. She'll kill the girl.

_So? She's into it. Probably just a gikongan anyway, losing a body won't hurt her. Don't fall for it, this is just another trick._

You know something, _amigo?_ Even if you're right, I'd rather be tricked than risk that.

_Peh. Don't say I didn't warn you._

So resolved, Noboru sullenly sealed his soul cutter, reverting Hanuman to the form of a short sword before renewing the enchantment that turned it into a more innocuous shape. Now disguised as a worn-down pencil, he slipped it into his ear. Noboru took a deep breath and flash-stepped forth until he stood before the murderess and her captive.

"All right, witch," he ground out from behind clenched teeth. "You win."

The wretch didn't appear pleased at his submission. She did withdraw her weapon from Ururu's neck, however, then proceeded to shove the dismembered maiden forward. Noboru caught her, feeling a subtle trembling in her frame that was not visible to the naked eye. He glared over her shoulder at the dispassionate woman, who simply hiked a thumb behind her.

"Get back to the gate. The hell butterflies are ready to guide you on your way. Sasakibe-sama and I will cover your retreat. And Ururu…?"

The waif's head shifted slightly so she could glance back at her mistress. "Yes?"

Those steely shark eyes narrowed in on Noboru. Her voice held a casual note of accusation. "Should he attempt to escape, here or in Soul Society, I want you to kill yourself. Understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am," she whispered faintly.

MOTHER-! Noboru bit down on his lip 'til he tasted blood. Dammit, she read my mind. He had never hated anyone so much as he did right then.

The ninja flicked a hand out. "Get going. Yoruichi-sama awaits."

He didn't waste time arguing. Instead the dark-haired thief just cradled his burden closer and took off back towards the mountain. There was blood dripping through his spectral body from where the stump of her arm pressed against him. This combined with the wound from earlier seemed to have taken all the strength from that deceptively tiny frame. Ururu slumped against him as though on the verge of passing out. A similar lethargy was working its way through his being. It was as if some terrible weariness had settled deep inside him.

So this is what it feels like… to be utterly defeated.

The woman was following in their wake, picking off any approaching flyers that her old friend hadn't obliterated. The young pair landed back on the wind-worn crest a few seconds later. Several of what must be hell butterflies fluttered about that shining doorframe. At his approach two of them bobbed on over to circle their heads.

Noboru cast a glance around, still feeling shaken and sweating. The magic maelstrom had yet to abate. Beasts of all shapes and sizes were once more converging upon his position, bellowing and screeching insanely.

He had lost.

This realization left him crestfallen and unable to resist anymore. Noboru was just about to take a step forward when something caught his eye. A bundle of brown and white feathers. The gyrfalcon Pluma lay where he had placed her a few yards off. While unmoving, there still remained life within that small shell. And suddenly he knew there was no way he could just leave her here, to be torn apart or possessed again after their withdrawal. If he must be a coward for running like this, then at least let it not be as a total failure.

Ururu stirred against him. "We have to leave."

Noboru hesitated, uncertain if she would take this as resistance on his part and possibly injure herself further as a result. But his loyalty to a friend in need trumped any such concerns. "Just one second," he insisted. "I want to take Pluma as well."

With that he hustled her increasingly deadweight body over and knelt gently beside the unconscious bird. Shifting the bleeding maid into a better position, the forest-dweller cast an anxious pleading look at Ururu. "I can't pick her up, but you can. Please?"

Her drooping head lifted a little, enough for their eyes to meet. That cute little mouth seemed on the verge of speaking. Like she wanted to warn him not to try anything funny. Then she apparently thought better of it. Ever so carefully Ururu reached down and scooped the gyrfalcon up in her remaining arm to cradle it against her chest. The bird nestled between them, its wings rustling slightly in the breeze.

"Thank you," Noboru smiled. There were tears in his eyes as he turned and began to retrace his way back towards the portal. White light emanating from it held a touch of something strong yet oddly welcoming. It made him feel warm, a welcome shift from the debilitating sadness that left his limbs feeling so much colder and heavier than usual. Could that be the feel of Soul Society? I wonder what I'm about to find there?

They were only a few steps away when there came a harsh clattering of hooves, and a great white-tailed stag burst through the gleaming circle.

So sudden and swift was its appearance there was no chance to react. All he knew was there existed no way to evade without dropping Ururu and Pluma. Wild eyes locked on Noboru as he froze, bloody froth dripping from its mouth. Without hesitation the stag lowered its antlered head and charged.

* * *

><p>A flock of bats came shrieking out of the sky towards her. Their cries were cut off as a hail of shuriken scythed them limb from limb. As their severed remains tumbled earthwards Soifon cast about for further enemies before returning her attention to Masahiko.<p>

He and Ururu had reached the gate and were preparing to step through it. Now was the most dangerous moment in a mission, when success seemed certain. The wise knew any number of things could still go wrong. As if to emphasize this, she did not fail to notice down on the ground where Sasakibe's gigai had proved a hair's-breadth too slow in dodging, and a small long-tailed cat took advantage to leap onto his back. The artificial soul stumbled from its clawed weight, foot skidding on a loose patch of rock. A throwing knife severed the thrashing feline's jugular, but still he went down shortly afterward, crushed beneath a stampede of vermin intent on reaching Masahiko. To his dying breath he never stopped fighting them. She would be sure to retrieve the soul pill. That one was worth keeping.

_Focus._

I must not be distracted. How is…?

Soifon turned and took off a split-second later. She sprinted from one sorcerous platform to another, intent only on speed. Her eyes had perceived what they could not. Masahiko's back was turned, but even if this were not the case he still could not have noticed the huge stag that had come dashing down the mountainside to reach the outcropping on which they stood. They could not see it coming since the otherworldly portal stood between them, blocking off their view of anything that lay behind it. But the beast had no such trouble homing in on its quarry as it bore down upon him.

Throwing knives were not enough. Even an exploding missile might prove insufficient to check its momentum and keep the boy from being impaled. I must make it in time. But this form was nowhere near as quick as she was capable in her natural element. Curse the demands of a body! Only a few meters remained, and Soifon drove herself on with every bit of strength she could lay claim to at this moment. It suddenly became clear that at this speed and trajectory there was no chance she would reach them to push Masahiko out of harm's way. It would only be a few milliseconds late, but that was all it took for a life to fade.

_Readjust._

The slender spirit altered her course accordingly. Forget protecting the target. Instead slay the enemy. That was her bailiwick, after all. The best defense was a fatal offense. No matter the cost, failure could not be accepted again. Now Soifon's focus shifted so that all she could see was the slavering brute rushing headlong to destroy her mission. She saw the flecks of stone kicked up by its hooves, red-rimmed eyes rolling madly in their sockets, and a profusion of lethal bone spears lowering in preparation of murder.

Masahiko made no attempt to evade. Perhaps he panicked. Or maybe it had something to do with the living beings he was holding so tightly too. Like he could not let them go. What was so important about a doll and a bird? Mayhaps he wished to die.

I will never allow it.

It felt like both of them were moving in slow motion as they rushed towards their respective foes. When she was just a foot away her reflection could be seen clearly in its bulging black pupil. As she drove the point of her zanpakutō in with the injured arm her free hand then reached to grasp hold of its antlers. Soifon felt smooth bone sliding over her skin and took a firm hold. The heavy animal aroma of its hide was mixed in with a sharp tang of blood. Rabid froth spattered against her face. This close she could hear its protracted wheezing breath alongside the dull, ponderous thud of its heartbeat.

Everything stopped completely. No movement. No sound. Just the two killers facing each other with murderous intent fair crackling between their locked gazes.

Time restarted. Two bodies smashed into one another painfully. Everything turned upside down, crashing and rolling together, the weight of flesh and bone doing just as much damage as the subsequent impact with stone.

Just enough. Just enough to turn the beast's charge and send the both of them skidding past the paralyzed children.

Soifon had already sprung up before either her or the stag came to a halt. Her gigai was effectively ruined; skull staved in, jagged bone bursting through the skin around calve and forearm. One ear was torn off and now dangled by a strip. She could not see out of her left eye, which meant it was probably gone. Breathing proved difficult with the number of shattered ribs. In spite of this she surged forward with a knife in her working hand even as the deer scrambled upright.

Their collision had altered her aim so that the handle of Suzumebachi now protruded from the stag's bleeding shoulder. As a result its heart had been spared from impalement. The snuffling snout turned, antlers now pointed straight at her as the monster threw itself forward to meet her attack. Soifon felt those dull prongs punch straight through her chest to come dripping out the other side. A jerk of the neck and now the animal had her hoisted up to dangle off the ground, bleating out a triumphant bellow that sounded more as if the stag itself had just received a mortal wound.

A second later its legs gave out and the mighty quadruped collapsed onto one side, Soifon's stiletto lodged deep in its throat. A death rattle signified its end moments later.

The wounded captain slumped against what felt like a forest's-worth of branches sprouting through her insides. Breathing was impossible without lungs. Yet miraculously her heart had been spared. What an excruciating way to die. At least it worked. By now Masahiko must have gotten through. The mission was a success.

"_ROBERTA!"_

Damn it to hell.

A pair of hands gripped her shoulders. Soifon's agony reached new heights as she was pulled gracelessly off the antlers. Blood filled her mouth and she found herself being laid down with a gentleness she hardly felt. Intense pain kept Soifon from experiencing pretty much anything else. The sight in her one good eye remained undiminished, however, which allowed her to see Masahiko's anxious face peering down. She tried to force words out, command him to leave her and go. To no avail. Only blood bubbled forth.

No sounds reached her ears. She could almost convince herself the conflict had ended. Is it possible? Could that stag have been the Master? Has the Hunt ended?

_No._

From the corner of one eye Soifon caught sight of a banded snake slithering towards Masahiko, who took no notice of its approach. She couldn't speak to warn him, much less move to reach her gikongan pill. Once free of the gigai she need suffer none of its wounds. Until then her spirit remained trapped.

Look! You little fool, look behind you!

Much to her surprise, the viper simply exploded a few feet away.

Chōjirō Sasakibe landed close by. His zanpakutō Gonryōmaru was drawn and now in its shikai form. As a warthog charged along the path towards them he simply thrust the dueling rapier at it. Immediately a long shaft of swirling air shot like an arrow from its tip. This gusty spear flew straight and true to punch through the pig's face and come bursting out the other end. It even proceeded onward to gouge out a furrow in the stone after the beast fell, in the manner of a drill coring anything in its path. As other types of animals slithered or flapped down upon their last refuge the wind sorcerer employed his otherworldly weapon to influence that aspect of nature into striking them down.

It would not be enough, Soifon realized. He was the only one still capable of fighting. Without a gigai she could not help him. And this close to them Sasakibe could not use his ban-kai. Gonryōmaru's first release could never prevail alone against the power of the Wild Hunt. It was only a matter of time before they were completely overwhelmed.

The fallen commander attempted to rise without success. This form could no longer operate. It would be dead in seconds and Soifon herself consigned back to spiritual essence. A body was what she needed. Anything at all would do, just enough to allow her to fight! Briefly she considered entering Ururu's vessel but rejected it as impractical. Who knew what might happen if she tried to get in there? The experience could prove deadly for both of them. So then what else can I do? She was desperate enough to even seek a living form, but all those nearby were already inhabited by Hollows.

Have I failed? Must I watch this child die?

Soifon looked at Masahiko's desperate face. She felt rage. Rage and…

Desperation. Shame. Grief.

Grief? This last confused her. Why? Is it because I have once again failed Lady Yoruichi?

_Not ours._

Then whose, Suzumebachi?

_Hers._

The gigai died. Instantly Soifon rose up out of it with all her shinigami power at hand. But even as more fell horrors drove upon them her attention turned elsewhere. Masahiko and Ururu huddled near her spent shell. The way he held the golem close told her much. This boy truly could not bear to abandon anyone. That was why he had not saved himself. He looked at the shinigami in surprise as she emerged, but Soifon could not be bothered to consider this any further. It was not his spirit nor Ururu's that had called to her. The golem's eyes were almost closed, indicating she had nearly succumbed to unconsciousness.

In one arm she held a falcon.

_Go._

I have no choice.

Masahiko gave a shout of alarm as she dove into the bird's unmoving body. Soon enough her suspicions were confirmed; it had been possessed by the Hunt earlier. After being knocked unconscious the Hollow abandoned its host in search of another. More than this, some bare vestige of a soul was taking form here. It was that which had called out to her in a moment of shared pain. Somewhat rare for an animal to form a true spirit. What brought this about?

But with a soul came memory, and so the shinigami now called upon the sleeping bird's past. She saw brief glimpses of endless blue sky, mountains, and plains. These fleeting things were transitory, experienced by most wildlife. They explained nothing. Soifon reached deeper. Now she was met by something much more powerful. A confusing blur of perceptions worked to resolve itself at the death god's prodding until at last it formed a clear image.

Masahiko.

The ghost, as he was perceived through the bird's eyes. More energy than any stable form, it was rather an outline of a man. Yet this brought no fear as one might expect in a wild beast. Instead what emerged was a strange sort of… affection. The beginnings of a soul in response to the way he treated her. This was compounded when they flew together. And more so after the birth of the bird's chicks. The sight of eggs in a nest transformed to bundles of wispy fluff that called and cried for their mother blindly.

Shock. Outrage. Terror.

This is it. When the bird (Pluma?) had first been possessed by the Hollow. Soifon felt as it shrieked and flapped its wings in a desperate effort to rid itself of this invader. The baby gyrfalcons wailed along with it. Animal savagery clashed against a nightmare that might once have been human and now barely qualified as a beast. Their struggle violently rocked the branch on which the falcon had made her home.

The Hollow won. The last thing Pluma saw before she fell into that other predator's madness was the sight of her nest being overturned in the struggle, dumping her helpless children out to plummet into the chasm below, still crying out for their loving protector as she took off in pursuit of blood.

A mother's rage. Sorrow. Loss. All these existed only for those with a soul. That and one other thing, an aspect of the spirit Soifon appreciated full well.

Vengeance.

The thought evoked a response in that sleeping brain. She actively stoked the wrath behind it, adding her own in turn.

VENGEANCE!

Pluma awoke then, eyes opening with a scream that held more than any mere call of the wild.

Yes, soul-sister. That much we share.

Together the two of them took off, tearing free of the girl's feeble hold. Masahiko grabbed for her and missed. The conjoined spirit of shinigami and gyrfalcon drove their shared body upwards with strong beats of their wings. They caught a gust of wind as both now knew how to do and circled, matchless eyes already searching.

For there was one thing which had stood out in the senseless cacophony after the Hollow took control. The call that spurred the monster controlling her. When flying overhead, she remembered spotting the source of that cry down amongst various creatures far below. The gyrfalcon's keen sight picked it out as she was being violated by the Hollow inside. It wore a crown of antlers, which felt wrong. Those animals bore no horns.

It was Cernunnos, my sister.

'_Vengeance!'_

Now the whole world was laid out below her. A tiny ghost fought desperately on the side of a mountain to protect two smaller ones from the swarm of crazed chaos that was building to a deadly crescendo around them. A father defending his young? Yes. That made sense. We must help. _I_ must help. Save their children from falling like mine did.

Look elsewhere. Remember what we saw. My gaze is keen, enough to spot a mouse's breathing from high in the sky. The source of this terror; which one was it?

There!

Soifon-Pluma folded her wings and dropped. The wind rushed past her as she streaked down in a power dive towards her target. Submerged in a crowd of lesser beasts, this one would have stood out even were it not Cernunnos, its powerful body bulling past the others as it rushed up the slope. At the last moment she spread her pinions wide and extended her claws, screaming in triumph as they slashed into its flesh. The malefactor howled and lashed out at her even as she beat free into open air.

The airborne duo banked around slowly and got her first close look at their true enemy. Below a spotted carnivore snarled while watching them intently. So that is the form Cernunnos took upon entering this world. How appropriate. All who lived in the jungle knew to fear it. Dappled shadow among trees that approaches silently before pouncing to taste the blood of other beasts on its tongue. Even man was not safe from this legendary hunter.

A jaguar, Soifon-Pluma realized. That's the Hunt Master. Kill it and all this will end.

She flew just out of its reach, taunting with slashing beak and uncatchable wings. The great cat yowled furiously. It bounded after them swiping with its lethal paws as they banked and bobbed ahead of it. Blazing yellow eyes fixed on her with a chilling intensity. None of the other animals came to its aid. They were too intent on hunting their own prey. This dance was meant for the two of them.

Soifon-Pluma continued to lead the cat towards their destination: a camouflaged crevasse in the slope. She had spotted it earlier while flying overhead. You couldn't even distinguish the pit from any other angle but directly above, so well was it concealed. It certainly looked deep enough to suit her purpose. Whatever fell in there would die. Just have to string the Master along. Keep it always on the move, and herself just out of reach. Those claws could rend her apart with one blow. Make it follow. Make it angry, so it won't see where it's going.

The Hunt Master leapt with liquid feline grace down the slope in pursuit of its avian nemesis. Landing on her level it stalked forward with blood streaming from its mangled face. The falcon watched as her target drew closer, heartbeat racing but unnaturally calm. It still didn't see what was right behind her just over the lip of the rise.

Almost there. Come on, come to me. Bastard, I'll be glad to watch you die, you took my _children from me!_

"PLUMA!"

Masahiko!

Cernunnos tensed upon sensing his approach and gave a growl. The youth flew through the air straight towards them swinging his staff with an anguished cry. Sasakibe came hot on his tail, while the amassed Wild Hunt followed in pursuit. At the same time their half-mad leader spun to face him. Bunching its muscled body, the Hunt Master sprang toward its oncoming prey with claws extended and fanged jaws ready to tear the boy's throat out.

_Save!_

Though uncertain which of them had this thought, agreement was unanimous. Without a second lost Soifon-Pluma flapped her wings and shot down to strike Cernunnos in the head. It twisted around and caught her, velvet pads crushing the body so that blood and feathers sprayed out even as wicked talons raked across the brute's face. Both animals screamed, right before the cat's jaws closed over her with a crunch of bone.

Masahiko was being restrained by Chōjirō. The jaguar sailed by them with the conjoined avengers still tearing at its eyes. She would not let go, willingly accepting death just for the chance to take this creature with her. Frantically twisting and rolling downhill, the two rivals sought desperately to slay one another.

The deathmatch continued even as they were carried over the cliff to plummet into the gaping crevasse below.

Both combatants fell into darkness. Something in the jaguar emitted a primal howl that echoed and reechoed out of that chasm like a curse born from hell itself. In response Soifon-Pluma screamed her own dying hatred for all the world to hear.

Seconds later both cries were cut off as each struck stone, and the darkness became total.

* * *

><p>They stopped.<p>

It was hard to believe. Where moments before there had been an army of disparate species out to eat his soul, now everywhere Noboru looked harmless animals lay panting in the thin mountain air. Some lifted their heads to look around uncertainly, not sure where they found themselves. After a while a few rose, shook their hides or feathers and began to depart. Condors took to the wing followed by herons and egrets. A teary-eyed grumbling crocodile went waddling by him, obviously uncomfortable in this high climate. Elsewhere a brace of howler monkeys huddled together hooting noisily in an effort to puzzle out their circumstances.

A short ways off sat a small jaguarondi. It regarded him as if expecting an explanation for all this. When none was forthcoming the fluffy cat licked its chops and with a swish of its long tail sprang off to go streaking in the direction of the far-off forest.

Dazed, Noboru looked around. Apparently he was no longer in any danger. One thing was certain, though. It would seem the Wild Hunt had met its end. He could no longer sense the slightest disruption in the planet's ether. Apparently the whole thing vanished en masse without any fanfare to mark its passing.

_What, just like that? How bizarre. After that entrance of theirs I was expecting an exit just as grand. Kind of a letdown, really._

Noboru couldn't bring himself to respond, too stunned by everything that had just happened. Not to mention the enormity of questions as yet unexplained. It was a miracle he hadn't been killed.

This thought reminded him of something. He didn't want to see, yet somehow the stalwart soul still found himself rising to drift over to the edge of the chasm. Slowly, as if dreading what he might find, the boy resolutely gazed down at the sight that awaited him.

Far below, red blood left a trail on several outcroppings of stone that finally ended with two smashed bodies locked together in death.

As he watched the female shinigami rose up before him.

Despite the curious deadness that persisted inside him he had been prepared to shout at her. Fling accusations, demand to know what right she had to sacrifice his friend's life like that. Her appearance preempted any such tirade. To his disbelief the woman was slathered in blood. At first he thought it was the animals', but upon catching sight of her face it became evident this was all hers. Rents were torn in her chest and stomach through which he could see bleeding insides. One arm was smashed to an extent there was not a single inch of skin visible through the blood. Her legs twisted at such an odd angle it looked like her pelvis had cracked in half, and were she not floating on air there was no way they could possibly bear her weight.

She watched him through the solitary black eye that was not surrounded by a mass of torn red flesh. Her throat worked as if she were about to say something. Noboru actually flinched in anticipation of whatever it might be.

Instead the lady fell forward. He was about to catch her when the older man zipped in and did it for him. That gray-haired warrior held his fallen comrade tenderly as he turned to regard the trembling youth.

"What's wrong with her?" Noboru finally asked.

"It was a living vessel she inhabited," the golden-eyed ghost spoke quietly. "The peril in doing so was great, for unlike our gigai which are designed to offer protection for any soul housed within, a mortal body can transmit wounds over to a shinigami. Just as injuries to the spirit are evinced by the flesh."

Noboru settled down to earth feeling immensely tired. Little Ururu came stumbling over to the old man and stood at his side. The two of them regarded him from their superior heights while he sat there sullenly. The elder spoke in a gentle tone now. "She did it to save you, Masahiko. If you can appreciate that act, I suggest we all remove to Soul Society where it will be easier to heal these wounds."

How could he possibly refuse, after everything these people just did for him? They had been willing to die to see him brought out safe. Still, there was one thing he must know. "Who _are _you guys?" the weary soul asked tiredly.

The silver-haired gentleman drew himself up. "I am Chōjirō Sasakibe. We three are emissaries of the Shihoin clan, sent to conduct you into the presence of Lady Shihoin Yoruichi as per her orders."

He shivered in silence. Eventually Noboru drew himself up with a groan. He looked between the three of them, then lifted his arms in a wondering manner. "Why didn't you just say that in the first place? Lead the way."

* * *

><p>"GOOOOAL!"<p>

Even as the field erupted into cheers Karin Kurosaki threw a glower over at the sidelines. There was one in every crowd. This particular example happened to be her brother's friend Keigo Asano. Every time she scored a point he would make that thunderous proclamation like a commentator at a Brazilian soccer match. Apparently he was trying to score points of his own, with some older girls. It seemed to be having the opposite effect judging by the looks they were giving him. Yet still he soldiered on. One could admire such tenacity. And pity such stupidity.

The referee blew his whistle, signifying the end of the match. The weather remained particularly balmy for this time of year, meaning soccer matches were not out of reason. Other residents of the park who had stopped to watch the friendly exhibition began to disperse in pursuit of their own activities. Her teammates came trotting over to congratulate Karin on another exemplary performance. She bid them thanks and went to collect her gear. Soon after this the sweat-soaked girl was seated on the grass sipping a juice pack while paying half an ear to Ichigo and his friends interacting.

"Oh, yeah, I taught Karin everything she knows about soccer! And hey, if you like, I'd be glad to teach you a few things too. Er, wait, hold on, that didn't come out right, what I meant was…!"

One resounding slap later, and Keigo retook his seat by the rest of them with the imprint of a hand flaring on his cheek.

"Give it up, Asano," her brother muttered distractedly while resting his chin in his palm. "They're not interested. Why are you chasing after seniors from another school anyway? That's more Mizuiro's game."

"Excuse me if I have a more normal interest in the opposite sex than you, buddy!" his comrade snapped back. He accepted the cold juice box Ichigo passed him and used it to nurse his stinging cheek. "Don't expect me to believe you didn't see the way those fine ladies were looking at you. I just thought I could make a play of my own by offering to introduce you!"

"He's spoken for, remember? Ichigo wouldn't even think of looking at another girl." Tatsuki Arisawa offered this assessment from her place reclining on the green sward. Dressed in a tank-top and cut-off blue jeans, the high school junior didn't seem to notice how she was receiving several appreciative looks from some of the local boys herself.

Ichigo squirmed restlessly, a dark expression settling on his face. "I said that I was going to make an effort at being nicer from now on, okay? That doesn't mean I want to talk about… stuff."

"Aww, look at you trying to exercise restraint for once," Asano teased and clapped a friendly hand on Ichigo's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, man! Now what do you say we use that sparkling new personality of yours to help your ol' pal Keigo score himself a nice academy babe!"

Without bothering to look at him Ichigo flipped a cell phone out of his pocket and held it up warningly. "Keigo, one more word and I'm calling your sister."

Immediately the other teen's face fell, his skin turning a distressing shade of white. "Please… don't tell Mizuho. I'll be good, I swear, just… _don't tell Mizuho!"_

With a casual air Ichigo pressed a few numbers and held the phone to his ear. "Hello, Mizuho-senpai?"

Asano bolted upright. He blurted out a strangled bleat before turning and racing from the park, nearly bowling over several people in the process, all the while screaming, "SHE'S GONNA KILL ME! SHE'S GONNA KIIIILL ME!"

Karin watched this spectacle while sipping cool guava juice. Her brother heaved an irritated sigh before leveling himself upright. "I better collect him. You'll be all right here, Karin?"

"We're good, Ichigo," Tatsuki mumbled in support. "I'll watch out for her. Take care of Keigo 'fore the cops arrest him for disorderly conduct again." Despite sounding half-asleep she still managed to project a sense of security around them both.

"Thanks. Be right back!"

Karin sat watching Ichigo run off. Having Tatsuki as company ensured they would be safe from any hooligans trolling around the park. A champion black belt in karate combined with advanced spiritual perceptions meant even your run-of-the-mill Hollow would be leery about picking a fight with her. In spite of this Karin couldn't help but feel a little down. The thought of needing protection reminded her that Kon had gone missing three days ago. She hadn't seen her cotton-stuffed cohort since he fled their home after quarreling with Ichigo. Whether he was doing all right depended largely on his own sense of wounded pride. She wished there had been a chance to tell him that he needn't listen to her brother's words; Kon had defended her to the best of his ability. Since then there had been no trouble on the level of what they had faced that day. Yet still he hadn't returned, and she was starting to get a little worried.

Taking a sip on her drink the girl noticed something odd then. A fairly tall guy was walking towards her brother as he chased after Asano. He wore slacks and a short-sleeved button-up white shirt in the heat. It might have been a uniform. He looked young enough to be in high school, yet he sported no jacket. Funny. Why did she bother noticing him at all?

When Ichigo was a few feet off the guy stopped and opened his mouth as if about to speak to him. Then he hesitated. Her brother noticed this and gave him a questioning look as he passed by, but the other fellow only swallowed and glanced away, stuffing his hands into his pockets as though nervous. Was it somebody Ichi-nii knew, Karin wondered? His ability to forget people's faces moments after meeting them was legendary in their family. It would be no surprise that this fellow was somebody from Ichigo's class, or more likely a person he had beat up on at some point in the past. That would certainly explain the nervousness. Oddly enough she could swear there was something familiar about that guy. Maybe it was just her previous line of thinking but it was almost as if…

The girl stood up slowly. "Tatsuki-san, I'll be right back, okay?"

Her guardian cracked an eye open and nodded as well as she could. "Okay."

Satisfied, Karin then jogged over to where that person still stood. He saw her coming, and for a second it looked like the teen was going to bolt. Instead he shifted awkwardly from one foot to another giving the impression of looking everywhere but at her. The twelve-year-old drew to a halt and glared intently up at him. He was at least her brother's height if not a few inches higher by her estimate. His legs were long and from what she could see he had a pretty good build; probably a basketball player, or perhaps a swimmer by the look of him. Light sandy hair was cut very close to his head in that buzz-cut style some teenagers favored. It made his ears stick out slightly and gave him a somewhat goofy appearance. In spite of this he had a nice face with a small pointed chin, aquiline nose and pronounced cheekbones which overall reminded her of a cat's face. This impression was further enhanced by a pair of startlingly blue eyes, very large and possessing a shifty quality, no doubt owing to the way he kept trying to pretend he didn't see her there.

After a few seconds it seemed the newcomer couldn't keep up this pretense and his glance flicked down to meet hers. Then it was as if he couldn't look away, although he clearly wanted to if the way his throat kept working soundlessly was any indication. His mouth opened once more, but nothing came out except a weak little gasp that died away. He looked really, really uncomfortable.

Karin stared. Her accusing gaze faltered somewhat, to be replaced by a slow-dawning look of wonder. It was crazy to think it. And yet there didn't seem to be any other explanation save for one.

"Kon?" she whispered.

In response, he grinned and held a finger before his lips.

"Shh! Don't tell anybody, okay, Karin? I want it to be a surprise!"

She gaped in disbelief. Then, noticing the way Tatsuki was looking at them, the girl gave a big smile and nodded. It was such a relief she almost felt like crying. Instead Karin just turned and ran back to where her guardian stood attentively. Tatsuki took her by the shoulder and guided her away, all the while giving him a very menacing glare.

Kon watched them go. Maybe it was his imagination, but he could have sworn he saw something flying away from Tatsuki back there. It could have been a bird, or maybe a butterfly. But then why…?

Ah, forget it. Probably nothing to worry about. He rubbed the back of his neck, then turned his face up towards the sun, enjoying the way it felt against his skin. After this the rangy teenager ambled away across the park towards home.

* * *

><p>On a boulder just outside the entrance to the Maggot's Nest a black cat sat busily licking one paw. Several paces off a red-haired kid stood at attention with arms crossed beneath a large golden bundle of cloth. He had a worried expression on his bug-eyed face. Neither of them spoke to one another as they waited with varying degrees of patience.<p>

A breeze rustled the leaves slightly. Chōjirō and Soifon appeared from out of nowhere, both down on one knee with heads bowed and fists pressed to the soil.

The cat's head came up before dipping slightly to acknowledge them. A hazy mist then rose that obscured it from view. When this parted Yoruichi Shihoin stood before them in all her womanly glory. Her hair was unbound and flowed freely down her back. She allowed Jinta to come up behind and slip the cloak over her shoulders before knotting it securely in front. Then she stepped forward.

Both her attendants rose and bowed before parting to either side, revealing Noboru Kouki standing behind them. He had his face turned down, bare toes digging through the grass and bangs falling to cover his face. The Goddess of Flash smiled at this before moving past her attendants.

Yoruichi drew to a halt in front of the boy. She reached out and ruffled his hair playfully, laughing when he squirmed and tried to brush her hand away.

The cheerful noblewoman placed both hands on her hips and gave a fond smile. "Hey, kiddo," she spoke softly.

Noboru flinched. Then he blew out his breath and finally lifted gray eyes to meet her own.

"Hi, Mom."

**_To be continued...  
><em>**


	4. Winter's End: All in the Family

"Soifon, I forbid you to kill yourself."

The knife stopped an inch from opening the Viper Company captain's stomach. She looked up with incomprehension large in her eyes.

"But… My Lady…!" Soifon protested from her position on the ground with both hands still wrapped firmly around the hilt of a kunai. "I have transgressed against your family! Whether unknowing or not, the things I said and did…!"

"Oh, I can guess what happened," her patron saint smiled sardonically while throwing a wink at Noboru. "He probably put you through your paces, got up in your face, disparaged and belittled every suggestion that he didn't think of first, and generally refused to cooperate with anything you asked. Which necessitated a little forceful persuasion on your part. Did I leave anything out, Masahiko?" She turned to her sulky-looking child for confirmation.

"I didn't know who they were," he muttered in his defense. Noboru wasn't looking at any of them when he spoke, seemingly determined to contemplate the ground as hard as possible. Still barefoot and wearing the same jersey and torn blue jeans from before, he stood out even further in this regally eclectic company. His toes were digging a furrow through the soil in a clear sign of discomfort.

Meanwhile, Soifon was having far more difficulty overlooking her own indiscretions than Yoruichi. She slipped the knife back into her cloak before abasing herself in the dirt as she deserved. "I humbly relinquish all rank and title, and request to be imprisoned until such time as an appropriate sentence can be determined. Viper Squad will remain under my lieutenant's auspices while a suitable replacement is found. For my numerous acts of disobedience and disparaging slights I ask no pardon, unforgiveable as they are."

The three members of the Shihoin clan regarded their submissive seneschal curiously. Noboru craned his head around toward his mother. "Is this basket-case related to us?" He pointed at Soifon, who did not rise to the bait as he half-expected she would.

With a fond smile Yoruichi took him by the shoulder and guided him over to where the smaller woman lay. "Her name is Shaolin Feng. Her family has served ours loyally for 17 generations. There is no one else I could have depended on to better ensure you would be brought safely to me. Now," here the noblewoman adopted a stern tone of voice that matched the new lordly set of her features, "tell Feng that you absolve her of any perceived crime she may have committed towards you in the pursuit of her duties."

The boy scowled blackly. "She killed a friend of mine," he bit out in a voice thick with emotion. "And she was going to murder the girl too! Why should…?"

"I'm not asking you to forgive her," Yoruichi continued. "Especially not for something she did to someone other than you. I said to absolve your vassal for her behavior towards her sworn liege. That is what she needs."

Noboru gave her an incredulous look. "This is nuts," he asserted.

When Yoruichi did not smile or jape, a sick certainty dawned on him that she was serious for a change. Frustrated, he turned back to the woman groveling at his feet. She did not look at them or respond to anything being said. The youth regarded her with perplexity and no small amount of hostility.

"I won't."

His lady mother sighed. "Whether you recognize it or not, kiddo, your life changed in the last 24 hours. You're no longer free to do as you please. Just like me, from this point on you'll have to take a lot of people and things into consideration. And you're going to need all the allies you can get. Now…"

She took a firm grip of his shoulders and pulled him down so that both were crouched before Soifon together. "Do your duty, and don't make a fuss. I mean it, Masahiko," her icy-casual words cut through the protest half-formed on his lips. "I'm not leaving you any room to wiggle here. So make with the kingly largesse or risk losing your mother's confidence."

Standing behind them, Sasakibe and Jinta did not fail to notice how tense the boy's posture had become. His fists shook as they clenched and unclenched stiffly. Yoruichi gave no further commands. Instead she leaned in and touched her brow against the side of his head, closing her eyes while enfolding him in a deeper embrace. They remained like this for a while during which no one dared to move.

At last Noboru appeared to relax. He let out an unsteady breath before declaring somewhat shakily, "I absolve you of any crimes against me, Shaolin Feng."

"Thank you, Lord," Soifon responded from facedown. "It shall never happen again."

"Yes it will," Yoruichi said with a flippant toss of her hair as she stood up. "You two are going to be very close from now on, and unless I miss my guess, there will be hell to pay all around. But it'll be worth it. I'm positive of that." She then turned and strode off towards the boulder looming behind them. "C'mon, let's get comfortable. I'd like to hear everything that led up to this."

From out of nowhere Jinta had seemingly produced a colorful picnic cloth and spread it over the grass. Several cushions offered further benefit for any weary bodies to recline upon. Light refreshments were set out along with cups of saké, though in one seat the rice wine was replaced by juice. Noboru didn't seem concerned at this juvenile treatment as the adults sat to begin discussing their recent adventure. He kept his face closed and sat without looking at his companions, though his eyes lingered curiously on Jinta for a while. The other boy appeared too intent on performing his serving duties to notice or desire any attention directed his way. After a while the curious noble gave up and tried to figure out where exactly in the story they might be.

"… cut off her arm to make certain of this," Soifon stated crisply. "His compliance followed soon after."

Noboru was just on the verge of interjecting with his own assessment when he noticed something. The red-headed kid doing all the grunt work had grown still for a moment. Like he couldn't remember what he was doing. This left him standing there with a knife poised to chop up some pickled carrots. As he watched unobtrusively, the lackey went back to his work. His motions were nowhere near as swift and assured as before. All the same, the dish was completed, and several sets of chilled vegetables were placed before the diners. After this their servant stood up and backed away a few paces to stand out of sight. He held himself with great care, but still Noboru caught a brief venomous look he turned on Soifon.

Right then the boy noticed him watching and hurriedly dropped his gaze. They had just come to the point where it was Sasakibe alone against the Hunt. Not really interested in hearing the details, Noboru stood up. Yoruichi's eyes flicked over at him, but he just shrugged and laced both hands behind his head while aimlessly sauntering off. She didn't call him on it, so while the grown-ups were busy talking he made his way over to where their servant stood.

The bug-eyed attendant regarded him mistrustfully as he approached. Noboru drew up right beside him and stopped so they were facing different directions.

"Are you a friend of Ururu?" he asked.

The kid might have nodded. He continued staring fixedly ahead.

"She made it out alive."

Now he registered those beady eyes flickering over out of the corner of his own. "I know."

The boy's voice was as sour as his face. This one definitely wasn't as impressed with him as that Feng woman. Noboru recognized there wasn't much point in his trying to offer comfort considering Ururu had been hurt entirely because of him. Still, he felt a compulsion to reach out to a fellow soul in distress. There weren't many people he knew his own age. And didn't Yoruichi herself say he needed to make allies?

"I helped treat her while Sasakibe was busy mending the ninja woman. Ururu made it through alright, and he gave her an injection afterward that just…" Noboru coughed slightly. "Well, it grew her arm back. But she was pretty weak so he insisted that she stay behind at the lookout while we came here."

"You think I care?"

The level of animosity in those words surprised him. He could feel his temper start to flare and had to work to suppress it. "I thought you would want to…"

"I ain't worried about her!" the fiery-haired tot insisted forcefully. He seemed to remember his place immediately after, because his voice dropped to a hiss, and still he did not look at the other youth. "I mean I don't… you don't need to tell me anything… sir." It sounded like he was chewing on nails with that last word. "We keep track of each other. Ururu told me she was all right after you left, so I'm fine. _We're… _fine. No thanks to you."

He didn't know whether to feel offended or guilty. Noboru settled for attempting to start the conversation over. "What's your name?"

The kid crossed his arms stubbornly but finally spit out, "Jinta."

"Got a last name, Jinta?"

"Yeah. Do you?"

_Put me through his eye. See how smart he sounds then!_

Noboru was all set to obey this suggestion when something dawned upon him. Come to think of it, now might be a pretty good time to ask. So instead of escalating the tension he merely patted Jinta on the shoulder and said, "Thanks. I needed that."

The ugly little misanthrope had a confused expression as Noboru strolled back to the discussion. It sounded like they were just about wrapping things up. Chōjirō was detailing his efforts to resuscitate Soifon after they got to Soul Society. Yoruichi had on a look of concern as she surveyed her seemingly healthy servant. "How are you feeling, Shaolin?"

Soifon bowed her head in acknowledgement. "I am fully recovered, My Lady."

"That's an exaggeration, but we'll let it slide."

"Who was my father?"

Everyone stopped whatever they had been doing. Attention shifted now from Yoruichi to Noboru, who calmly took his seat amidst that company. He felt very confident at this moment. Like nothing could thwart him. Because of this he didn't bother to elaborate and simply stared at his mother. She didn't appear surprised at this sudden outburst. But neither did she make any move to respond.

"Masahiko," the grandfatherly Sasakibe began in gentle tones, "now might not be the best time to discuss such topics."

"It's alright, Otoo-san." His mistress held up a hand. "Who's to say when we might get another chance to talk civilly in a peaceful fashion? I imagine you all have a few questions of your own to ask me."

That sounded like a preface to evasion, something Noboru was long familiar with and deeply resented. "I can tell that they don't know the answer." He gestured over to the two attendants. "You just called Sasakibe 'uncle', and even he was surprised when I called you 'Mom'. Snappy Swordfish over there almost bit her tongue off. Means they didn't have a clue. But now it's all out in the open. So are you going to tell me who my father is?" A bitter smile twisted his lip. "Or is it just that you don't know for sure yourself?"

Soifon was on her feet immediately and angry enough to spill his blood by the look of it. He could feel murderous intent rolling off her in waves. Were he not the son of her liege lady that would probably have been the end of 'civil discourse' right there.

On the contrary, Yoruichi wasn't upset. Not in any way he could judge. She just gazed at him without saying a word. Maybe there was some kind of unknown magic at work here, because out of nowhere a stab of guilt wrung his heart, making the cocky young noble feel like an ungrateful little shit.

Why didn't you stop me?

_Who am I, your mother?_

That just made things worse. It was even more humiliating how fast he found himself blurting out, "I'm sorry."

The woman who was the only family he had ever known tilted her head up slightly. "There are few enough people in the world who can love you unreservedly, my son." Yoruichi leaned close to run a hand down his arm and clasped his fingers firmly. "You should take care of them as well as you can. I know you're upset that I left you alone for so long. You wanted to come with me but I never allowed it. That was the best way I could think of to keep you safe. If I stayed around you all the time it might have attracted attention. So I kept my distance and any visits were of the short and sweet variety."

"But understand," and here her voice held a different undercurrent than before. "As much as you hated being left alone, I hated leaving you even more. You are my son and I regret missing out on a large part of your life forever. My only consolation is that you might not have had one if I stayed." Yoruichi straightened up and looked down on him. "You've seen what our enemies are like now. Tell me: did it frighten you?"

This question caused him to shiver. It brought back the memory of claws and teeth all around along with a desperate realization of failure. For a few moments he could not answer, and when he did Noboru spoke only one word in a very quiet voice. "Yes."

She nodded in a sort of stern satisfaction. "We managed to come out on top against them once. But it wasn't a permanent win. And the fact that someone is after you shows that nothing has been resolved. Just delayed. We need to go all out against them. That includes you. The time for hiding is past. Now it's war."

A queer sort of sickly feeling grew inside his bones. Having experienced this very same thing only hours past, Noboru instantly recognized it as fear. The prospect of dying loomed large in his mind. Never had it felt so… inevitable. The thought left him cold.

Almost as if sensing this, Yoruichi hugged him fast in a tight embrace. He remained still as a conflicting sensation of comfort fought against his own rising fears. Then, like the sun melting ice, the terror was consumed by that soothing presence, and he clasped his mother in return with a grateful gasp.

"I won't let them have you," she whispered while stroking his hair. "Neither I nor your father will allow that to happen. You're safe with the ones who love you, Noboru."

He had almost forgotten what started this. Her words brought it back. "My father?" he sniffed.

"Yes. It's the reason behind the name that I gave you. 'Noboru', which I decided on before you were born, meaning 'to climb'. Because you will; whether mountains or enemies, you will overcome any obstacle. But the false family name 'Kouki' had double significance; 'tall tree'. I could feel your partner right from the start and what he meant to you."

_That's kind of nice. Even if it was a fake, she thought of it because of me._

"The real reason I gave you that surname," Yoruichi murmured while continuing to stroke his hair reassuringly, "is because it sounds similar to your true one. So that when the time came you wouldn't require any great effort to accept your identity. Now, then…"

And here she put a finger beneath his chin, raising his eyes to meet her own. They were sparkling golden, full of fire and mischief, and Noboru felt any lingering anxiety at what was coming next disappear.

"Your full name, my son, is Kuchiki Noboru. Your father is Kuchiki Byakuya, the 28th head of the clan and Lord-Commander of the Gotei 7."

"AAAAAAHHH!"

Surprised, Yoruichi glanced behind her. She and everyone else now focused on Soifon, whose face was twisted in an expression of incomprehensible horror the likes of which none of them had ever known from her.

"Captain Soifon," Yoruichi asked carefully, "Something wrong?"

The tiny ninja closed her gaping trap so fast she narrowly missed biting her tongue off. "No! That is…! NO! You can't…! I mean he can't…! When did you…? Time travel…? No, impossible, so then how could he… be…?"

With a supreme show of force Soifon seemingly mastered her shock, at least enough to form a coherent sentence. "My Lady," she began in somewhat ragged tones, "By my estimation your son is… no more than 100 years old. So then how could… that MAN have… done THIS… to YOU!"

Yoruichi raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that obvious?"

A tremor went through the petite brunette's body from her feet on up to her crown. "But…" she choked, face having gone a sickly shade of blue. "That is to say, back then, he was hardly any older than this boy is now! Are you telling me that…?"

"One hundred years ago, Byakuya and I were lovers."

Oddly enough Noboru felt himself to be the only person who didn't have some kind of emotional investment in this revelation. That was strange, considering it was his parentage under discussion. He looked between the rest of them curiously. Yoruichi appeared as blandly confident as though they were discussing the weather. Her uncle Chōjirō (which makes him my great-uncle) had taken to stroking the tips of his moustache in what could be a sign of distress. As for Jinta, he was staring at Yoruichi as though unable to believe she could have done such a preposterous thing.

But the pièce de résistance had to be the Feng woman. She had gone white as a sheet and seemingly aged twenty years in the last ten seconds. It looked as though a few hairs might have fallen out to boot.

Then quite suddenly the female ninja was crouching right beside him. Before he could so much as blink in surprise Soifon grabbed hold of his chin in a vice-like grip and thrust his bangs out of the way with the other hand. Her deranged black eyes then bore into his astonished gray ones. The insane way she looked at him prevented any attempt to break free before he could even think it. Yoruichi just watched them both with a funny little smile while Noboru sat unresisting.

The crazy lady took in his unusual coloring, including how a ring of gold encircled each of his irises. She jerked his head to one side and peered into his ear, then whipped him back around and forcibly opened his mouth. "Say 'Ahhh'!"

"What?"

"_Just do it!" _she practically screamed at him.

He complied. "Ahhh."

The captain stared.

"It's true."

Soifon whispered this in a flat deflated voice. She stood and stumbled a few steps back, looking about ready to keel over on the spot. Yoruichi lithely stood and sidled up to her with a smile, clapping a friendly hand on the younger woman's shoulder in what might be an attempt to keep her from collapsing. Soifon never took her eyes off Noboru. There was something hollow in that flat black stare, as though a light on the inside had been snuffed out forever.

"There, you see?" Yoruichi sang cheerfully. "All verified, so everybody's certain."

Noboru watched this scene in frank incomprehension. "Is my Dad a criminal or something?"

Yoruichi threw him a startled look, then flung her head back and laughed. He might have been offended but for the way she stepped forward to embrace him unreservedly. This relaxed the boy. His mother had always been very open with affection, never sparing when it came to expressing her love. When she was around, that is.

"It might sound that way given how we're talking about him." Yoruichi drew back and favored him with one of her fiercely happy smiles that beamed like the sun. "But I'm the lawbreaker in the family, and I've got the record to prove it. Your Dad would pop a blood vessel if anybody so much as thought to accuse him of behaving improperly. I can't wait for him to meet you!"

Suddenly his royal parent stood up. Her face had slipped into a cold regal mask so fast it made him shiver. "But you can't yet."

He jumped up. "What? Why not?" Noboru hated how whiny he sounded just then, as though he were simply another immature stripling. Although after having waited so long to have his lineage confirmed, dangling the chance to finally meet his parent before him only to snatch it away seemed a little too cruel.

Yoruichi draped an arm in tender fashion around his shoulder and led him off for them to converse together privately. The others present didn't seem to want to interfere on this family tableau. Her expression remained aloof, but this was belied by the concern he heard in her voice. "Right now your father is in a sensitive position. He's overseeing the reconstitution of Soul Society as well as managing the Gotei 7. The pressure he's been working under is severe, and it's only now starting to yield fruit. If he learns he's got a long-lost son no one ever told him about he might just snap."

"You mean _you _never told him about me," Noboru muttered accusingly.

She inclined her head in a way that accepted his criticism and dismissed it at the same time. "Now that I'm free to move about I intend to help your father with all my strength. I'll broach the topic to him gently, when he's prepared to listen. Just let me do this for you my way, Noboru. So that you won't be disappointed when it happens. Will you let me?"

He tried to think of a cogent argument that would defeat anything she might possibly throw at him. Even Hanuman helped out in his self-absorbed flash-fire way. But ultimately some small long-buried yearning to please his mother rose up and throttled all those impassioned arguments, so that he found himself saying in a disgruntled way, "Okay."

"Perfect. Now, for the time being, we need to decide on your new living arrangements. I considered having you move in with my uncle, only people might get the wrong idea about that." Behind her Sasakibe raised a carefully trimmed eyebrow but did not interrupt his mistress. "Soul Society is nowhere near safe enough for you to live in on your own. Too much disorder remaining, I'd be worried sick every moment."

She didn't sound particularly distressed. But then Yoruichi was a master at dissembling her true intentions. Noboru still couldn't shake free of the suspicion that she was just leading them all around by the nose to reach the destination she wanted. "Where, then?" he demanded with all the impatience and moodiness of his years. "I can't go back to Earth if that Hunt is going to keep chasing me."

_She's smiling and trying to hide it._

When he looked at her face closely, there was no indication of repressed mirth. But Hanuman had a very good sense of when somebody was laughing at him. A sinking feeling developed in his stomach. "Can I?"

"No. No, of course not." Yoruichi squeezed his shoulder while giving him a very concerned caring look. "That would be absolutely crazy, am I right?"

The sinking had developed into a full-blown queasy mess of quicksand. "But that's what you're going to have me do anyway," he muttered.

His mother tussled his hair in that lovingly demeaning way she had. "Right as usual, kiddo. Glad to see you're catching on to our strategy, such as it were. Our group is not above doing crazy and potentially ill-advised actions. Which serves to aggravate fussy detail-oriented people like Feng over there, but nowhere near as much as it does our enemies. As Kisuke is wont to say, it's kind of like being an incredibly untrustworthy magician. If you announce you're going to saw someone in half and instead turn everyone in the audience into purple cats with horns growing out of their foreheads, a few of them might cry foul, but that doesn't mean they're not still secretly amazed at what you did!"

Noboru did not look particularly impressed at this extravagant declaration. Nonetheless Yoruichi proceeded as if he had wholeheartedly hopped on board her demented paddy-wagon. "There are avenues open to us on Earth that don't exist in Soul Society. How do you think I managed to go undetected for over a century? Even staying a cat couldn't cut it forever. So whenever four fingers and a thumb became essential, I used a special gigai Kisuke whipped up for me."

That was the second time she had mentioned that name. "And this Kisuke is someone we can trust?"

"About as far as you can throw him by his hair," the flash goddess pronounced mysteriously. "He's another one of our family retainers, though not nearly as obedient as Feng. He'll still give us a faux body that nobody will be able to track your spirit signature through."

Chōjirō coughed politely to get their attention then. "I take it this means you will be releasing Captain Urahara from his enforced furlough?"

"No need," Yoruichi turned on him cheerfully. "I already let Kisuke out. He's been free for well over a month now."

"_WHAT?"_

Both Feng and Chōjirō looked at one another as if to demand whether they had known about this. The clearly flustered younger ninja then turned back to their leader and asked in a voice of forced equanimity, "That wretch has been on the loose all this time without anyone's knowledge or supervision? But then… Milady, if he is gone, why have you remained?"

"Simple. If everyone thinks they know where we are it means they're not looking for us. Makes it easier to get things done."

This whole business was starting to make Noboru tired. "So who's going to know where I am now?"

Yoruichi swept out a hand to encompass the people in the glade. "Us, for starters. But what you're really asking me is about your future living arrangements, right?"

Though wearing nothing but a robe, Yoruichi still managed to project an aura of queenly grace. She settled an appraising eye on her son, seeming to be judging whether or not he was fit for what she had in mind. That or maybe she was weighing the merits of this particular course of action.

_Get serious. Like Yoruichi ever second-guesses herself._

At last his unpredictable parent appeared to reach some sort of decision. She then placed an arm on his shoulder and proceeded to lead him back to where the others waited. "This'll work," she bent to whisper in his ear as they approached.

When they had rejoined the group Yoruichi drew herself up proudly. "For his safety, I have decided that my son, Kuchiki Noboru, shall be entrusted to the care of his paternal aunt, Kuchiki Rukia."

At this pronouncement Soifon went stiff as an iron girder. Black eyes quivered wildly. "HER?" she snarled through clenched teeth. "After what she _did? _After _ALL _she _DID? _My Lady, I kept my peace after the war, and even when Captain Kotetsu made her choice, for it was not my place to dictate another division's inner workings. But this is too much! You are asking us to allow the future clan head to be placed in the power of a known criminal!"

Noboru frowned. "Seriously, what sort of people are these Kuchiki?"

"Feng," Yoruichi began tenderly, a dear smile softening her face. "Feng, Feng, Feng." The lady of Shihoin stepped forward and embraced her servant. Soifon lost any last reserve of cool, turning red enough to pass for a traffic light.

"M-My Lady," she squeaked in a voice one decibel higher than normal, "We shouldn't, that is, _you_ shouldn't be seen…!"

"This just hasn't been your day," the flash goddess crooned as she petted her apprentice's head like a confounded puppy. "Just not your day, huh?"

_Uh-oh. This doesn't sound good._

Hanuman's suspicions were confirmed when Yoruichi spoke next. "Nope, not your day. And it gets worse. Because you see, I'm handing over training of Masahiko to you. You're in charge of his continued development until I say otherwise."

It was hard to say which of them looked more thunderstruck at this arrangement. Like their worlds had just been yanked out from under them in the manner of a cheap throw-rug. One thing was certain, though. This only proved what he had suspected all along: she hid it well, but Yoruichi was completely nuts.

She seemed to take their shocked silence for agreement. "Now then," his mother sang as she turned back to him, "Let's get you settled in!"

* * *

><p>Isshin Kurosaki sat at his dining room table with a newspaper in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. His eyes roamed across the pages. Every so often he would turn his head and take a sip of coffee, perhaps making only slightly more of a slurping sound than was necessary, never stopping his diligent reading. After a while he lowered both accessories.<p>

"What do you think? Pretty convincing, eh?"

"Hmmm." Across from him, Urahara Kisuke left off picking at a plate of Turkish delight to rub his whiskered chin in a thoughtful manner. "A fair performance, but… no."

"_What?" _the single father proclaimed indignantly. "You're pulling my leg! No way you could tell! Why, I even kept my eyes moving across the page as though I was reading type." As he spoke Isshin plopped the paper down, revealing a dirty magazine cleverly concealed behind its folds.

"And an artful bit of deception it was. But you neglected one very important detail. Your eyes were reading from right to left. And as you can see here…" Urahara pointed meaningfully at the discarded newsprint. "This is a Russian paper. The words go from left to right in the Western fashion."

"Eh?" His colleague peered down to verify this. Upon confirmation of the point his shoulders slumped. "Well, sunnuvagun. So it is. That's what comes from poor preparation. This article arrived as packaging in that last shipment of medical supplies we received. I just grabbed it up without noticing." Isshin's face settled into a morose expression. He sagged forward until his chin rested upon the tabletop. "Karin would have kicked my ass for sure then."

"And how."

Out in the hall they heard the front door open and close. The fact that it didn't slam told them much about who had joined their little party. Both men remained where they were. Neither needed to rise and see who it was. A sense more occult than not revealed they were about to be joined by two extraordinary souls. The sound of coats and hats being discarded followed, along with some low dialogue concerning the removal of shoes. Moments later, Nanao Ise strolled into the kitchen followed closely by Shinji Hirako.

"Morning, gents!" The Vaizard leader sported a distinctive smile that showed off his enthusiastic approach to virtually anything. The two men offered casual nods and lifting of hands as the blonde houseguest pulled up a chair and began helping himself to some Turkish delight. Shinji paused with a square of pink confection halfway to his mouth. "Do these have nuts in them?"

"Not at all," Isshin offered.

"Good." He promptly popped the sweetmeat into his mouth. "They stick in my teeth. Plus the different textures don't really do anything for me."

"Some might consider that to be restrictive of new experiences," Isshin chided him slightly, to which the hybrid warrior shook his shaggy head in emphatic fashion.

"I like my treats the way I like my ladies: soft and succulent!"

"But musculature improves the shape and prolongs duration of physical performance, at least in my experience," Urahara stated. "It's a matter of preference, I'll grant you, however in terms of equal output vis-á-vis exertions in the bedchamber one can't ignore how an overwhelming discrepancy in partners can lead to dissatisfied customers while also…"

"Ahem."

Nanao cleared her throat as a means to get their attention. Obviously this continuing debate held nothing of merit, and so it fell to her as the most mature individual present to get the conversation back on track. They looked over at where she stood by the head of the table. All three appeared as though only now having remembered her presence and feeling uncertain how to proceed next. Once their eyes were upon her she began.

"Thank you. Having spoken to several of the people best suited to offer relevant advice on the matter, my investigation is complete. There are several important items to report. After meeting with Captain Hirako," she nodded slightly to where the man in question continued to stuff his face, "I have now combed all pertinent avenues both firsthand and auxiliary pertaining to the enemy we face. Thanks to this a more precise picture than ever before is available as to its motives and tendencies."

Nanao removed three data tablets from a satchel she carried and presented one to each of her confidantes before continuing her summation. "Captain Hirako offered to accompany me in order to present up-to-date info on his group's recent activities in Hueco Mundo. With that we can formulate a viable strategy on how to handle the Hunt. If you'll look at the document labeled 'Directory A' you will find…"

"It's gone."

She threw a sharp look at Isshin upon his interruption. "I checked each pad before coming here, they should all have the adequate protocols to…"

"No, I meant the Hunt. It got wiped out a couple days ago."

He had recovered his newspaper and flipped it open. Noticing the nudie mag hidden inside it, Shinji raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner and held out a hopeful hand. The other captain obligingly passed over the article with a genial smile, opting to turn to the horoscope sections of the paper where the daily nude photo was also included. For his part Urahara tapped his watch and held it to one ear as if checking to see if the device had run down.

In the ensuing silence, Nanao's cheeks had gone pale.

"Excuse me?"

"The Wild Hunt has already been disposed of," Urahara offered while scrunching his eyes in mild concentration as he listened to the timepiece. "Soifon and Sasakibe came and killed it while you were gone. We felt it all the way on the other side of the globe. Pretty fast response time, if you ask me. They got here so quick one might almost suspect they were already lying in wait for the thing."

Hirako leafed through his porn mag idly. "I wonder who it was after in the first place?"

Kisuke nodded in a wise and sagacious fashion. "Ah, that is the crux of the matter, isn't it? Who in this world would warrant such high consideration as to merit sending an interdimensional hit squad after them? Certainly there are few enough worthwhile targets outside of this hemisphere, or indeed this house. I posit that maybe…"

A cracking sound caused the lazy philosopher to look up. All theorizing died out soon after. His colleagues exchanged uneasy looks. For Nanao Ise remained looming over them, gripping the back of a chair so hard its timber was splitting beneath her fingers. That coupled with the way her lips had pressed together to form two thin white lines served to dispel the previous warmth and camaraderie that had existed in that kitchen space.

Without any undue haste, she reached up and removed her glasses.

The trio of captains each felt an identical lance of cold fear stab into the base of their spines. Having no apparent consideration for their discomfort Nanao slid one hand into her sleeve. Her housemates tensed and more than one reached to where they normally might find their own soul cutters. Before any further trepidation could compel them into reacting violently, her fingers emerged holding nothing more deadly than a white handkerchief. Stitched into one corner was a flamboyant red rose along with a brief line of poetry. Nanao then began to punctiliously clean her spectacles with this item.

"If I may inquire," she spoke ever so softly while remaining focused on her work, "is there any particular reason why no one saw fit to inform me of this development earlier?" With great care and no overt menace at all she lifted the lenses before her face to give them a close inspection. "I could have been saved the inconvenience of a trip to Soul Society, not to mention Hueco Mundo. Why, then, was I not informed?"

Her dark eyes flickered ever so briefly in Isshin's direction. The other two relaxed somewhat since it had now become clear they were not being singled out for blame in this instance. Their host, however, boasted a pallor usually seen in the gravely ill. He had also begun to sweat noticeably.

"Nanao-san, I thought… why pull you off the case? 'Forewarned is forearmed', as the saying goes! And goodness knows this wasn't the end of it. The Wild Hunt will resurface again at some time in the future. Your findings might be just what we need to counter it when that… inevitably… happens…"

His voice trailed off. Her gaze had now settled heavily upon the ashen Isshin. "And it had nothing to do with the fact that an old friend stopped by," she turned one cold eye on Kisuke, who had produced a fan and was endeavoring to hide as much of his face behind it as he could, "so that you never even considered warning me because you were too busy having _fun?"_

"Well…"

"Because I like to have fun too."

She was smiling now, an expression not often seen on her face and all the more horrible as a result. Isshin certainly couldn't recall ever catching her in a moment of good humor. Not that he was at all fooled into believing that smile portended anything but maniacal punishment for yours truly.

Having determined that they were not the target of her ire, his cohorts went about their business with nary a glance at the anxious doctor now. He shot them both a pleading look but was met with total confirmed denial. He had, in fact, been disassociated. They were no longer his acquaintances and would take no more interest in any awful things that befell him than if they were three strangers eating their lunches separately in the park. It was a cold, ruthless decision on their parts and he couldn't help but admire them for it. Now that's the mark of a professional right there.

_You just need to relax, my man. Pour on the charm and watch her melt like cool beautiful butter. _

Excuse me? Do you think I went into the Kidō Corps because I was too smooth with people? Hell no! It's because I'm a complete and utter doofus when it comes to social interactions! Especially concerning the ladies.

_I'm just saying, what's with the whole bones-turned-to-jelly routine, dude? Throw her over your shoulder and dance around the room for a bit until she can't stop laughing. Then tell her to make us some snacks, we're starving. Not like she would do you any serious damage._

Look. I know full well that I could beat Nanao in a fight… probably.

_Probably?_

But that's not the point! There's a reason nobody messes with her. It's like… a vibe. If you're not too stupid to pick up on it, that little premonition might just save your life. Reminiscent of the automatic danger reaction that comes from spotting a cobra rearing above the grass in front of you. You can't fight your instincts, and mine are telling me not to move a muscle in this situation, lest the hooded serpent strike! Hssss!

_Oh wow, I mean, that's just harsh. She's a lady, man! Don't turn her into a monster._

Oh, really? I've never known you to mouth off to her zanpakutō. Why is that, hmmm?

_Well, see, Ureshii freaks me out. Big time. She's got those crazy eyes, man. You can tell. She's squirrel-shit nutty with some seriously crazy eyes. Sweet, though._

I think it's obvious who the mature one is here. So just sit back and let me do the talking. Don't worry, everything's going to be fine.

_Nanao's behind you._

Huh? SUNNAVU…!

She had indeed drawn up right in back of his chair, wearing a look that just screamed 'unhealthy interest'. At least in his opinion. Maybe it was a result of the medical training he had received informing that suspicion. Did the others pick up on anything similar? Really must remember to ask…

"Do you know how I have fun?" her oddly light voice sounded over his head. He felt like a prisoner before the bench as a hanging judge was about to read his sentence. No way to even throw yourself on the mercy of the court.

Nanao offered them all a cold, brittle smile. "I give lectures… with slides."

Every man at that table groaned.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, Mayor Wakahisa!"<p>

"Good day to you, ladies," the village head inclined his gleaming topknot in response as he passed them on the arch of a bridge. Two noblewomen dressed in glamorous kimonos bowed respectfully at the waist towards him. A pair of attendants held bamboo umbrellas behind their mistresses in case they need fear sweating off their makeup in the rays of this warm winter sun. The respect afforded their village chief was evident in the depth of their obeisance. His stern but polite acknowledgement served to illustrate the graciousness that should be observed by all public officials towards their charges.

The customers ate it up. Alerted by the call of the noblewomen, they accepted this opportunity to snap a few pictures with their cameras and cell phones as both parties met upon the bridge with mountains rising in the background. It was an excellent photo op and he was glad the two sharp-eyed actresses had picked up on his signal.

Having completed his duty, Suzuki Denbei, stage-name 'Mayor Wakahisa', hurriedly strode off to attend to his real business.

As a performer employed at the Kioshimura Theme Park, Denbei enjoyed the opportunity to cultivate his craft virtually non-stop every day. It was almost like living two lives. In one, he was the mayor of Kioshimura, an established Edo-era trading post and former mining town in northern Honshou. It was his job to manage the village assets as well as coordinate with his superiors in the provincial capital. He dressed well for a man of this period and lived better than most. His fellow villagers afforded him respect and he took pride in demonstrating the affluence and prosperity of Kioshimura to the inquisitive travelers who stopped by here from distant lands.

This was the more exhilarating of his dual identities. For in the other, he was simply Suzuki Denbei, a college dropout and young actor whose career options were so low he could not get work on film, television or radio if his life depended on it. And in a way, it did. For nothing came cheap in today's economy, and there was little more unsavory than an unemployed actor. Which explained why a theme park like this was really as much a necessity as it was a godsend. His room and board was provided at no cost as a result of living on the park grounds, which were designed to look just like a feudal village. There were accommodations for the guests if they felt like staying the night, but the regular workers boasted some pretty snazzy living arrangements themselves. It truly was mercy from heaven that he had lucked into such a career.

Of course, he wasn't the only one to experience this blessed windfall. Kioshimura also employed people skilled in traditional crafts like weaving, calligraphy, and even metalsmithing. What counted as largely a hobby in the modern world could here be put to use earning a decent living. The craftsmen worked on display for the paying customers, and what they made was available for sale at very reasonable rates. You could purchase hand-woven kimono or a bamboo _jingasa _hat and dress up just like a local. Denbei had no idea who actually owned the park. He had signed a contract with an official representing an acting agency hired by a company that was part of a corporation owned by an offshore firm and maybe a hundred other different levels of subsidiary dominion which ultimately topped nobody knew where. Some of the park staff theorized they might actually be owned by the Imperial Family of Japan themselves, but hardly anyone could offer conclusive evidence to support it. Old records from the Tokugawa era indicated there might have been a village here at one time. Unfortunately hamlets from that period tended to get wiped out in various purges instituted by the government. Perhaps it was best not to dig too deeply.

Not that it mattered. Suzuki was just happy to be getting paid doing what he loved. Acting made him feel inspired and worthwhile in a way nothing else even came close. That meant a great deal to a fellow in his position. Life hadn't exactly been generous to him. In all other respects he was mediocre in the worst possible way. Even his name held nothing of interest, boasting two of the most common titles you could find in all of Japan. This small but longstanding resentment had greatly influenced his choice of the name 'Wakahisa' for his character, both eye-catching and highly unusual.

And so Mayor Wakahisa made his way past beautifully recreated wooden buildings and roadside stalls selling fried eel and paper trinkets. A group of actors dressed as unemployed miners were playing the town drunks up ahead, offering saké to the children and laughing good-naturedly when their parents refused. He made sure to scold them on his way past just like an official mayor would do, and his cohorts played their parts by scattering in every direction. He then thanked the audience for visiting while offering them advice on local sights of interest.

Kioshimura was a fairly large attraction, but not so big you couldn't walk from one end to another in under half an hour. Therefore it took him only a few minutes to reach his destination in the craftsmen's district. Better try and make this quick. There's a bandit assault scheduled for 3:30 in the afternoon. Passing by tanners making leather goods and pottery artists hard at work, he reached the booth belonging to the town silversmith.

"Now, don't you gals look pretty. If ya aren't careful, an _ōni _might sneak up and whisk ya both away to his castle in the underworld!"

Two teenage girls in school uniforms giggled as they accepted the silversmith's praise. Now sporting some flashing silver ornaments, they bid him goodbye and strolled off together whispering and chancing occasional looks back. He just smiled and waved, causing them to titter merrily. The customers completely ignored Denbei as he approached. Which shouldn't have caused him any irritation, but damn him if it didn't. This sort of thing was…

"Hey, speakin' of big ugly monsters, here comes our own dear Mayor Wakahisa! How's it goin', boss?"

Gato Izanagi the town silversmith chuckled at this witticism. His coworker frowned at that remark and wished dearly he could whip out a clever retort on the spot. True to form though, nothing came to mind. His irritation grew more pronounced as a result. This man always managed to get under his skin without even trying.

Sitting at the front of his shop, Gato lazily surveyed him from behind dark shades while rolling a pair of polished silver _băoding_ balls around his palm. They chimed prettily in a way that might delude one into thinking there was nothing to fear here. Denbei knew better. Izanagi lived to make mischief. Tall and handsome with long coal-black hair he kept out of his face with a black headband instead of the topknot others wore, the silversmith had drawn many an eye over the years and was the source of several rumors. The park management had annual contracts with all the craftsmen. Depending on how popular their work proved they might be asked to return next year, or a new artisan was signed to try their luck. This meant you had some old hands with an established customer base alongside newcomers eager to start their careers in this admittedly unusual locale. Once you had been let go it was highly unlikely you would be asked to come back.

Izanagi was another story. According to testimony from those who had worked here since long before Suzuki's debut, this particular rascal was something like a fixture himself. For at least twelve years, since the park's establishment, he had been appearing off and on. Show up for a few weeks without any warning to replace the previous incumbent, sell his goods and woo the customers, then disappear for several months or even years at a time. None of the other artisans enjoyed this sort of recurrent favor. Speculation ran that he was related to someone high up in either the company food chain or the local government which leased them the land. No one knew who he was or where he came from. Like a ghost, he appeared and vanished without ever leaving a trace.

Only this time Gato seemed here to stay. He had been plying his trade with them for almost half a year now. It was very distressing. In addition, they were starting to get some complaints. Since Gato usually never stayed for very long these disputes tended to cause no big stir. His prolonged tenure, however, had made it necessary for someone to step in. So several of the park residents got together and decided to have a representative approach Izanagi with their complaints.

That turned out to be Mayor Wakahisa.

Even though Denbei didn't know the man well. Even though he was a junior member and had no real authority. And irregardless of the fact that he could be risking his job by approaching this obviously well-connected individual. Or maybe precisely because of that last point. The older members didn't want to risk being the ones to anger Izanagi's patron and get the boot as a result. Not so Suzuki Denbei. No, he could be sacrificed and a replacement found without any effort. Never mind the terrible inconvenience and awkward position this would put him in.

It was completely unfair. Yet nobody else came forward to take his place. Gato had been absent for a few days which mercifully meant there was no way Suzuki could confront him. But now he had reappeared, and so into the lion's den we must go.

Stopping before the cozy little shop, Denbei looked past its proprietor to admire the work for sale within. This, at least, required no defensive preparations. It was a true joy to contemplate such exquisite pieces of art. Say what you would about the man, but he certainly knew his business. Nothing on display could be called commonplace. There were necklaces and bracelets, rings, earrings, even silver studs all in mesmerizing designs. A whole section of the cases were reserved for small silver figures from fish and bears to dancing girls so well-cast they almost seemed to move. Certain broaches, flasks and boxes were especially eye-catching. Gato was a master of the Mokume-Gane technique, imparting patterns similar to wood-grain into his creations seemingly at will. Why someone of such burgeoning talent would consent to work in a relatively small operation like this was beyond him. He should be touring the world with his creations.

Then again, personality went a long way towards success as well. And Gato did not inspire trust in those around him for more than a few minutes. A sharp-toothed eel of a man. Who's to say 'Gato Izanagi' was even his real name? Certainly a pseudonym would raise no eyebrows in this job. But _some _level of openness was expected, and there remained next to nothing known for sure about him. Even the Osaka accent he affected might be fake.

"So what's up, Denji-kun?"

That nickname startled Suzuki out of his brief reverie. It was an appellation commonly attributed to those with his name. He hated it just for that reason, and Gato seemed to have picked up on this very quickly.

There was no sense wasting time. Might as well get the public lynching over with. "Gato-sempai," he began, making a conscious effort not to sound unfriendly or stern, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but some of your colleagues have asked me to speak to you in regards to certain incidents."

Izanagi didn't move. He seemed to be waiting for him to continue and was quite comfortable right where he was. The same could not be said for Denbei.

"You see…"

"What kinda 'incidents', Denji-kun?"

Gato's voice hadn't altered from its cheerful timbre. In spite of this Denbei felt a strong urge to just turn around and walk away before this turned ugly. Why was he even here? He didn't know this man at all. Whenever you tried to talk to him about his past or anything to do with his personal life, you found yourself being redirected into your own or something completely unrelated to the previous topic. According to Gato there had been a famous Japanese silver craftsman whose first name was Denbei. The silversmith had pointed that out to him when they first met. And that was just when he had asked to know Gato's name. It took him almost a minute after walking away to realize the smiling artisan had never answered him.

Truth be told, he was a little scared of this man.

"Well…" Some fresh surge of courage provided Denbei with the means to carry on. "That, for starters. You've been… accidentally… referring to several of the workers here by their real names, or nicknames. In front of the customers, I mean. That's against park rules. The stage names we choose are for our… privacy, I guess. So that people don't hassle us outside of the job. It's distracting, you see. We all want everyone to have fun here including the workers for…"

"Speakin' of which, I heard a joke the other day that reminded me of you. Lemme know if ya've heard this one: waddaya call an actor who can't remember his lines?"

Cut off midsentence, Denbei strove to collect himself. At last he gave up and said, "I don't know, what?"

"Waiter!" And Gato snapped his fingers as though summoning a menial.

There was silence for a bit while the creep just grinned at his own joke. Denbei started feeling very self-conscious now. It was like he had become supremely aware of everything that felt off about his body, from the itchiness in his armpits to the scalp strain from having his hair pulled into a topknot. This whole costume just felt hot and awkward where only seconds ago he hadn't noticed any of that. Striving to keep from scratching himself he tried again. "I don't want you to feel like I'm putting you on the spot, Gato-sempai, but…"

"See, it works the other way too. 'Waddaya call a waiter who can't remember his orders'? 'An actor'! Kinda like a palindrome. You ever heard of a palindrome before?"

To his surprise Denbei found he was rifling back through his high school education to answer that question. "It's… something spelled the way it sounds, right?"

"Nah, that's an onomatopoeia. These're all English terms, y'see. I got some books you can borrow if yer lookin' to brush up on that stuff. An actor's gotta have a good vocabulary in my opinion. Helps 'em understand the roles they play. You got a favorite play?"

"Well… there are a lot of good plays…"

"Mine's 'Madame Butterfly'."

It looked as though several of the other staff members were watching them surreptitiously. _Get on with it! _they seemed to urge him. Denbei squirmed like a beetle on its back under their accusing stares.

Gato didn't appear to notice any of this. He held the _băoding_ balls up to his ear while he proceeded in a musing manner. Their sound was almost hypnotic. As they continued to chime softly Denbei saw not for the first time that there were two fingers missing on the silversmith's left hand.

His handicap seemed to concern Gato no more than the stares they were receiving. "The original play, I mean. Now that's art imitating life. Not like those hokey sob stories where it's all lovey-dovey at the end 'n everybody's gonna fly off happy into the sunset. I'm talking 'bout where she finally wakes up and realizes there ain't nobody coming back for her and the baby. So she makes the only decision she can: 'Die with honor, when you can no longer live with it'."

The tinkling sound of the hand bells continued. Reaching up, Gato lowered his shades slightly to peer over their top. His bright blue eyes sent a shiver up the actor's spine. But the ringing in his ears was so enchanting all he could do was stare dumbly at the silversmith.

"That line cracks me up every time."

The smile he now wore belonged to a shark, full of teeth and without a drop of humanity. For the first time Denbei noticed how many weapons were close to the silversmith's hands. Hammers, picks, metal styluses, and all kinds of blades.

Much to his surprise, he realized that Gato was about to kill him.

I know it. He'd really do it. Just kill me and keep right on talking so that nobody notices a thing. Everybody'll think it's part of our act. They won't know any different until it's too late. I've got to run. Or scream. Anything to break the spell he's casting.

Only I can't move.

The _băoding_ balls played their easy tune, ringing to guide him across the _Sanzu no Kawa. _The River of Death was rushing over its banks. He could feel it lapping at his toes, and it made him cold. Their churning waves were another type of song.

Please. Play something else. I don't want to die.

As if in response to his prayers, Dolly Parton started singing 'If I Said You Have a Beautiful Body'.

The bells stopped. Denbei gave a shudder and almost collapsed right there. Sweating and chilled, he could do no more than gape. In front of him Gato Izanagi reached into his pocket and produced a cell phone that was singing this American country song. He flicked it open, then paused and looked over at the trembling actor. "Sorry, Denji-kun. I have to take this. Come on back some other time and we'll chat. Bye-bye, now!"

The right honorable Mayor Wakahisa blinked stupidly for a few seconds before he turned to trod away on shaking legs.

Gato leaned back against the side of his shop and pressed a button. The song cut off.

"Hello?"

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?"

The master artisan smiled charmingly at some passing tourists who cast odd looks his way. "I had to go out of town for a few days. Something important came up. Surely you must have felt it."

"NO! I DIDN'T!" The voice on the other line dropped in volume. "I've been… kinda off the radar for a bit."

That did not sound good. "Rangiku-u-u-u?" he demanded in a somewhat cross tone.

"Look, don't be mad. I had some trouble with my gigai and had to, well, burn it! But you can get me another one, right?"

"Of course," he muttered darkly. "I'll just stop by the gigai tree on my way home and pick one off the lowest branch. Heaven forbid you should actually _suffer the consequences of your actions!"_

"Didn't I tell you not to get mad?" She sighed tiredly. "Okay, I screwed up, I know it. But can you pretty please bring me a new gigai? I hate having to hang around down here, it's dark and lonely!"

Concern for her wellbeing erased any lingering indignation. "Where are you?"

When he heard her response, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, shut up already."

"No, no, I'm sorry," he chuckled, wiping away a tear of pure mirth. "Look, just hang tight and I'll be right over. It's not like I didn't anticipate this might happen eventually. It is you, after all."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Bye, sugar. Love you!"

The phone snapped shut before she could articulate her offended dignity. For a while the shop's owner simply sat there tapping idly on one knee with his damaged hand. At last a slow smile reached his lips. "Well, at least she didn't kill anybody this time."

Gin Ichimaru casually reached over and flipped his sign from 'Open' to 'Closed'. He then drew down the curtain and went in back to get changed for his trip.

* * *

><p>Her time spent at the Shinigami Research and Development Bureau left Rukia feeling singularly exhausted. Being somewhat of a celebrity in those parts, she had been entertained by several of its top talent in the hopes of showcasing their proposals for future research. These efforts were often exaggerated and literally explosive. It made her feel like a harried mother whose numerous progeny all boasted genius intellects and an insatiable need to compete with each other for her attention.<p>

Naturally this did not stop her from continuing to relay orders and intel pertaining to Heron Squad. Nor did her efforts overseeing Kon's situation prevent Rukia from attending to her duties as a Kuchiki. Such weak excuses were for those who did not care to accomplish something in the first place. She wanted no part of them.

_You've done enough for one day, dear heart. What do you say we get some sleep?_

In a bit. I want to check on my rabbits first.

Sode no Shirayuki did not protest. She enjoyed being able to play with their fluffy pets as much as her mistress. Rukia knew this, and was pleased to grant her zanpakutō some time in which to exercise herself in a non-martial capacity.

The grounds of Kuchiki Manor at night were lit by a few lamps. Not enough to distract you from the natural beauty of moonlight, but sufficient so that one need not fear stepping in a hole. Or being waylaid in the dark. It paid to be careful. In these changing times, resentment and hostility long subsumed might tend to bubble over in search of someone to blame. A clan responsible for much of the ongoing alterations in their world made for a very prominent target. Not all the nobles supported the dismantling of the Rukongai, after all. For this reason guards still patrolled the manor walls in groups day and night. Their silent presence served to add an extra layer of protection for her family living here. Rukia tried not to think that any such force would prove small deterrent to their truly dangerous enemies. Yet these guardsmen had been given the option to find new lives in the specially constructed locales being built for the residents of the Rukongai. They had opted to stay, affirming their oaths of allegiance to the Kuchiki. Maybe not all had elected to remain in vassalage. But those who did deserved her respect. The world changed. Convictions did not. That was something to be admired.

All the rabbits were asleep in their hutch on her approach. Their owner smiled as she crouched down to look at them. She reached in a finger to stroke their fur, delighting in the downy softness. They had been a surprise gift from her Nii-sama after the war. It was even more surprising to learn that Byakuya was so attuned to her mood that he could sense precisely what she needed. Something simple and heartwarming. Something alive and thriving.

Something to fill the void left by Yumichika Ayasegawa's passing.

His death ranked among the greatest tragedies she had ever faced. Since Rukia had not collapsed inwards with remorse, some might think she had not cared for the flamboyant fighter with the same intensity as she had Kaien Shiba. Not true. Her sorrow ran just as deep, if not more so.

Though it shamed her to admit it, Rukia had only known Lieutenant Shiba for a few years. Not decades as was the case with Yumichika. Both of them had cared for her when she needed the greatest help. After Kaien died she had wallowed in misery. The loss of Yumichika did not bring about this catastrophic crumbling of self. It couldn't. After all, he had done everything possible to make her self-confident. Thanks to that strange and mysterious man, Rukia was far stronger than she might ever have become on her own, strength Yumichika had spent decades drawing out of her. He had been her tutor, confidante, playmate, challenger, and surrogate brother figure through the most trying of years. With the exceptions of Byakuya and Ichigo, no one had changed Rukia's life for the better as much as him.

He died only a few yards away from her. While she lay sleeping.

There hadn't even been a chance to say goodbye. It was entirely because of Yumichika Ayasegawa's support that she even survived the war. Thanks to the gifts he bestowed upon her she was able to defeat Gin Ichimaru in single combat for possession of the King's Key. Unfortunately this victory, however personally fulfilling, was not to last for long. Following the opening of Nirvana, Rukia was rendered unconscious by a surprise attack from Kaname Tosen's shikai. Even worse, the rebel captain managed to incapacitate Commander-General Yamamoto in his bankai long enough for Aizen to destroy the old man's spiritual power forever. To her deepest regret Rukia remained knocked out while a desperate battle raged in which Unohana Retsu sacrificed herself to seal Aizen and his cohorts away in Nirvana forever.

She could hardly believe it upon waking that the war had ended while she slept. Worse than the realization that she had not been able to participate in this conflict was the knowledge of what it cost her. Rukia had almost wanted to strike her brother Byakuya when he confessed that her beloved Yumichika was killed in battle with one of Aizen's _vasto lorde_, which itself was subsequently annihilated thanks in part to her fallen friend's own selfless actions. It had seemed like a cruel joke on his part. But Byakuya Kuchiki would never jest, least of all concerning something so very personal. He was not a cruel man. And that was how she knew her loss was real.

Rukia could sometimes still feel the hole in her heart left by Kaien Shiba's passing. But with Yumichika, that emptiness did not exist. Almost like everything he had done for her, whether she knew it or not, rushed in to fill the void left by his demise. Someone so wonderful, so filled with life; their memory served to lift your spirits. As if the heart that Kaien had spoken upon passed into her immediately with Yumichika so that she need not suffer even a moment of desolation. He had shared his heart with her so thoroughly and unreservedly. Though knowing he was gone, and even crying over it at times, it honestly felt like Yumichika still remained alive inside her. She could not even feel ashamed at not being able to save him. Because she knew for a fact Yumichika would have been offended by any displays of grief. _'Tears are not beautiful, Rukia-chan! I won't permit you to shed a single one for my sake. I'll not have your cute little face marred by grief on my account. That would be even worse than dying.'_

Rukia had lost people before. Her childhood friends. A sister she had never known, whose zanpakutō now held a place within her own soul. Kaien Shiba. All of them died before she could adequately express her appreciation for them. For some it would have taken years to properly convey that appreciation.

Or maybe seconds. A hug. A kiss. A word. Small things can mean so much, when they are the last you will ever get. Or give. Perhaps that was why Yumichika gave his own life to save Ichigo's. Because he figured out even before she did how much that young human meant to her. She wouldn't put it past him. He was an enigmatic soul. Beautifully so, of course.

A final perusal of the pens satisfied her that everything was well with her littlest family. She had over two dozen rabbits now, and was on her second generation. Byakuya would not be pleased if she let them build warrens on the grounds, and the groundskeepers would have no reason to thank her either. So after her growing brood reached a certain age she set them loose in the forests beyond the limits of the old rings. There they could exist in peace.

Having completed the inspection to her satisfaction, Rukia was about to head indoors when she noticed something. One of the hutch doors was inexplicably unlocked.

That had not been the case a few seconds ago.

When she looked up, there was a brown-skinned boy sitting across the way with one of her rabbits in his lap. He seemed absorbed in petting it.

"Sorry about that, Rukia-chan," a voice spoke before she could even think to question this occurrence. "He's been dying to play with them, but I told him not to until you got back."

Yoruichi Shihoin now stood beside her dressed in a skintight Stealth Forces uniform. She was watching the boy with a sort of amused affection. For her part Rukia had begun to wonder if she might have fallen asleep on her feet and dropped into a most unusual dream.

_In that case Ichigo would be here minus his pants. Trust me, this is real._

At any other time, this unforeseen intrusion might have startled her terribly. But right now the weary lieutenant simply couldn't bring herself to muster that sort of energy. It was late, she happened to be quite tired, and it wouldn't do any good to panic. If nothing else, she knew Yoruichi. This enabled her to forego stammering any stupid questions and just slip into the scene without resistance like it was a warm bath. Maybe it was surrendering without a fight, but some battles weren't worth throwing yourself into. This level of perplexing oddity followed the lady of Shihoin around like a cat. You got used to it.

"Good evening, Yoruichi-sama," she spoke in an attempt to draw the other noblewoman's attention.

"Yo!" Her cheerful elder turned and gamely saluted with two fingers.

Rukia hesitated before bowing forward with all grace and propriety. While doing so she cast a searching glance in the direction of her other uninvited guest. For some reason he almost looked familiar. Considering the way he was dressed, this might be someone she had met from her days living on the streets. But that was a long time ago. Anyone from back then would be all grown up now. The kid was pointedly ignoring her in favor of the rabbit. Even though he must know this counted as trespassing at the least.

_Tell him to stop petting our bunny! Little Kisuke is tired and needs his rest!_

He's not hurting anyone. And anyway we shouldn't antagonize them. I'm already not looking forward to what this night has in store for us. Let's behave cordially.

While she was thinking this, Yoruichi leaned down and whispered in her ear, causing the tiny soul reaper to shiver. "Why don't we get out of sight where nobody can see us? Wouldn't want any of your guards to come to the wrong conclusion about what we're doing with their lady."

"Of course," Rukia rose and gestured back indoors. "Please come inside, I'll arrange for refreshments and a suitable…"

"Nuh-uh." A firm brown finger pressed her lips closed, forcing her into silence. Yoruichi had donned that smile she sometimes favored, the one that hungered for chaos like a cat adored cream. "Let's take our chat somewhere a bit more exclusive. Easier to avoid prying eyes and ears."

Several things happened at once then. Rukia found herself scooped into the crook of the bronzed ninja's arm to hang there like a limp kitten. Little Kisuke was removed from the nameless kid's clutches and deposited comfortably back with his siblings where he promptly fell asleep. Grass whispered underfoot, a flourishing eucalyptus bush was lifted to reveal a hole in the ground, and then they were all zipping down a flight of wooden stairs as the tunnel entrance closed soundlessly behind them.

A snap of a match, and light blossomed. Much to her surprise Lieutenant Kuchiki found herself not in a dirty pit or stone cavern, but a comfortable enclosure large enough to accommodate twenty people. There were paper walls and sliding doors that presumably led off elsewhere. Tatami mats shared space with richly woven carpets, all piled high with many plump cushions. A few tantobon tables held liquor bottles at their centers with cups arranged around them. It looked like everything was set for a friendly gathering underground.

Rukia found herself deposited on a cushion while her enigmatic callers seated themselves opposite. She gazed around perplexedly. "What is this place?"

Yoruichi waved a genial hand. "Oh, it's just an old Shinigami Women's Association hangout. One of several that are on the Kuchiki grounds, actually. It's a ways below ground, and there are dampeners to suppress any sound so that we can party hard as we like and nobody up top is the wiser. Gotta stay ahead of the boys, after all." She reached over to snag some cups and bottles, carefully pouring out drinks. "And before you ask, no, _he_ isn't aware of them. So let's keep it that way." The playful polymorph leaned over to hand Rukia a cup. "Cheers."

"_Ganbate," _she responded almost mechanically. The saké smelled good, and to her surprise she found herself taking a careful sip. A little alcohol might be just the trick to keep her abreast of all the craziness going on. Considering things were getting weirder by the second, intoxication seemed a wise precaution.

Even the youth received a libation, though he seemed less inclined to try it than her. Once they were all settled in Yoruichi leaned back on her cushion and gave a sigh. "So," she began while swirling her drink. "I should start by apologizing for springing this on you at such a late hour, Rukia-chan. However I need to exercise discretion in who sees us together. You've been busy at the R&D Bureau 'til now and there wasn't an opportunity to meet before this. Time is of the essence."

Yoruichi drained her saucer in one gulp and smacked it down on the table. She then hoisted herself up, crossing her legs and placing both hands on her knees. In no time flat her face had transformed into something frighteningly serious, enough to make Rukia reconsider any previous notions she might have held regarding their meeting. "I have come to beseech your aid, Lady Kuchiki."

"How can I be of help?"

Automatic compliance. As if all thought of questioning or even opposition had been strangled insider her mouth. Just by the tone of this woman's voice. That was the truly unnerving realization. The guise of the irreverent prankster or teasing teacher had been purposefully discarded. What was revealed beneath left Rukia feeling humbled just to be in this woman's presence. Here was what she could only pretend to be; a person noble from birth, made almost divine by their choice of actions and sense of purpose. It was a perception her brother Byakuya exuded every day, so that she thought herself inured to it by now. Clearly she had been mistaken.

"For starters, Rukia-chan, whether you agree to help me or not, whatever goes on this night must not reach Byakuya's ears. He is to remain unaware of any arrangements between us. I know he is your brother and the head of your clan, so any act of subterfuge on your part might be considered treasonous under a strict interpretation of the hereditary bylaws. I cannot insist that you participate as a result, nor can I offer any assurances that you will not receive any blame for helping me." Yoruichi tilted her head upwards, golden eyes flashing like stars in the low lights. "What I can offer is my guarantee that what I ask in no way constitutes a betrayal of either Byakuya or Clan Kuchiki. I give you my solemn word as the Lady of Shihoin. Will you accept my trust?"

It was hard to imagine anyone with an ounce of self-respect being able to turn such a request down. Rukia felt like she was in one of those old myths where a god suddenly appears and bestows a divine mission on some chosen mortal.

_Enough with the drooling adoration already. She doesn't need any more _shrimpy _stalkers, I'm sure._

Unless you have anything helpful to offer, I kindly request you zip your lip!

_I'm just saying not to discount her. She's twice as good at manipulating people's confidences as Urahara. Don't take anything she says at face value._

That's much better. Thank you for the advice, Sode no Shirayuki.

_S'what I'm here for._

Rukia came back to reply almost immediately with, "I accept, Lady Shihoin."

"Good." Here Yoruichi smiled. Not in a sly way, or humorous, or even sultry. This was something new. The way she looked right now conveyed a silent but completely clear 'Thank you'. There was honest gratitude in that expression, and what might even be relief. Her heart warmed at the sight, and Rukia had to consciously remember her zanpakutō's words. Yoruichi knew what she was doing. For the time being, it was her choice to go along with the elder noblewoman and take her at face value. But she would not blindly follow whatever might happen. Her family, her house, and perhaps even her life might be on the line here. Trust only went so far before you had to decide who was more important. Rukia felt much more confident about her position and ready to deal with anything.

Yoruichi sighed, and her queenly aura diminished slightly. "Okay, then. Now that the formalities have been settled, let's make some introductions." She gestured to where the boy sat watching them both closely. "Rukia-chan, I'd like you to meet my son, Noboru Kuchiki."

The cup fell from Rukia's hand and splattered its contents on the floor.

The Flash Goddess paid no attention to this as she continued. "Noboru, this is your aunt, Lady Rukia Kuchiki. She is the acting matriarch of the clan, second only to your father Byakuya in terms of authority. Her sister Hisana was Byakuya's wife and she was formally adopted as his own sibling following Lady Hisana's death."

Noboru turned his head to regard her. "Hello," was all he finally said.

A slight sound came from Rukia's open mouth. Nothing more.

This is not happening.

_You bet it is! Oh, you bet it IS! I knew it! I told you, didn't I tell you? Byakuya's human after all! There's a man under all that icy formality, complete with blood and a penis to boot! How totally awesome is THIS?_

No… no, it ISN'T! He can't be a father, he's… he's my Nii-sama! OUR Nii-sama! He's too young, he can't have a kid this age! They would have had to be… doing THAT when he was no taller than me! This is all some sick joke on her part!

_Wow. You're really not taking this very well._

I AM TAKING EVERYTHING JUST FINE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

_Yeah, I can tell that._

Whatever! Just… let me get my bearings. Let me try and sort this out.

_Agreed. Let's start by picturing Byakuya and Yoruichi both naked, going at it like crazy rabbits!_

SHUT UP! THAT IS NOT HELPING!

_On the contrary, I haven't laughed this much in… well, ever._

You keep quiet. I am going to deal with this. Oh, you can bet I am going to deal with this!

_Come to think of it, this would make excellent ammunition for when he objects to you and Ichigo. Just casually go, "Oh, and one more thing, you got Yoruichi Shihoin pregnant while you were still in training pants. Nice going there, ace. We'll expect a very classy wedding gift from you, and the Kuchiki clan will happily foot the tab for our nuptials. Got that, stud?" Oh my goodness, I cannot stop laughing!_

I'm telling him what you said.

_Wait… you mean Byakuya? Are you kidding? You wouldn't!_

Try me.

Nothing further came from the soul cutter's end. Satisfied, Rukia proceeded to engage in a little damage control in terms of her hold on reality.

"Lady Yoruichi," she managed to force out of a throat that felt painfully tight, "Am I… given to understand that you are telling me this… boy… is the son of my Ni… I mean, my brother Byakuya?"

"Yu-huh." The shapely specter nodded.

Rukia felt a most inappropriate urge to leap up and accuse the woman of lying through her teeth. There had to be some kind of mistake. This child was closer to her own age. He could not possibly be any relation to Byakuya Kuchiki. He must be a fake. An imposter!

As if sensing these condemning thoughts the recalcitrant reprobate lifted his head to regard her. Their eyes met. And then…

He scowled.

The shock Rukia experienced felt like someone had fired a shotgun blast of ice into her chest. It was such an incredible family resemblance; at that moment she could practically see her elder brother's features hanging superimposed over those of his son. His…

Oh my word.

"You are Nii-sama's child!" she whispered in surprise.

This declaration served to make him dreadfully uncomfortable, if the way he broke off their staring match was any indication. Noboru cast a pleading look at his mother as if beseeching her to lift whatever awkward onus had been placed upon him by the matter of his birth. In a way, this served to soften Rukia's opinion of him. A measure of inspiration told her that Noboru had not been aware of his parentage until very recently. She knew well how difficult it could be to suddenly find yourself a member of a prestigious house with no idea what might be expected of you. Everyone treating you like some kind of fragile and awkward instrument nobody knew quite how to play. It was a terrible burden, being thrown into a game whose rules were unexplained but whose penalties seemed to dog your every step. Rukia could not help but sympathize with what he would soon be going through.

For this reason, she did not hesitate a second longer in confirming her support.

"Noboru-kun," she stated kindly. His anxious features snapped back to her as if suspecting a trap in his own name. He is rather like a wild animal caught in a snare, actually. That simply won't do. The Kuchiki clan is not his enemy. Let's start with that.

"I am not your enemy," Rukia chose to inform him, pressing a hand to her heart. The uncertain way he blinked at her brought a smile to her face, and she continued in a much more hopeful vein. "Let me be the first of us to welcome you into the Kuchiki clan. I was granted the honor of becoming a member of that house some fifty years ago. It came as much of a surprise to me as you must have felt yourself. For the longest time it seemed like I was mistaken in ever accepting the offer to join this family. Even with all the comforts that came with it, there is nothing I would have wanted more than for someone to offer to be my friend and help me through it all right from the start."

So saying, she then held out her hand to him in the manner of mortals.

"I am your Aunt Rukia. Please let me be your friend, to assist you in finding your place among us."

From the corner of her eye she saw Yoruichi gazing admiringly at her with that same tender relief she briefly flashed before. Clearly the single parent had possessed her own doubts about how this meeting might go. At the very least she had earned the mother's approval. But what about the son's?

Before her Noboru peered through his veil of coal-black hair. He did not look particularly inclined to accept her offer at face value. It was slightly weird and oddly adorable how he looked like a young uncertain version of his father. Who knew such a miracle could ever exist?

Then he simply said, "Okay," and proceeded to clasp her hand in his.

With that, they were family.

Rukia felt another hand settle on her shoulder. She turned to find the Lady Shihoin smiling beside her. "Thank you," was all Yoruichi said.

A thought came to her. "Does this mean you and Nii-sama are going to get married?"

"Let's leave that for another time," the exotic death god adroitly sidestepped her query like a puddle in the road, ignoring the looks of anticipation she got from both of them. "I need to explain what happens next. As things stand, Noboru is in danger on several levels. I'd like you to look after him for me while I dispose of the ones responsible."

"Ah…" Rukia inclined her head back towards her new nephew. This was as sudden as everything else happening this evening. Might as well go with the flow. "Of course, I will arrange for quarters in the main household for…"

"Byakuya can't know about this, remember?"

That brought Rukia up short. What? She doesn't want him to know he has a son? At _all? _This caused a strange ache to form in her chest. The two women stared at one another for a while. "Then I will arrange for space in Heron Squad…"

Yoruichi shook her head.

"Oh. Then… the Halos are available while our new living planes are nearing completion, I can order he be granted…"

Another shake of the head.

Rukia was fast running out of options available to her. A sneaking suspicion began to creep out of the depths of her brain. Could it be…? No, that's impossible. Wishful thinking on my part. She couldn't possibly expect me to…

"I want for you to take him to live with you in the mortal realm, Rukia-chan."

… do exactly as I thought.

"E… excuse me?" Rukia had to fight to maintain control of herself. Not because she was terribly surprised to learn about this, but owing to the fact that she needed to maintain the appearance of impartiality. That was rather difficult considering a certain part of her soul was cheering and doing cartwheels. An excuse! A real, honest-to-goodness totally legitimate excuse! I've got it after all this time! And not just for a few hours but for… however long this takes! I'm IN!

Outwardly, she heard herself saying, "I'm afraid that would be impossible, Yoruichi-sama."

What? No, don't say that, you traitor! Unfortunately the dutiful Lieutenant Kuchiki ignored plain old Rukia and proceeded on.

"I have no time or means at my disposal to assume an identity in the material world again. To leave Soul Society for any extended period would constitute abandonment of my duties. I am a lieutenant now, and I deeply value that responsibility. There are many who depend on me. I remain the designated liaison for the Research and Development Bureau. In addition a management position of the first Heavenly Education and Relocation Oasis has been granted to me. I must also attend to my position in the Kuchiki household so as to lessen the burden Nii-sama labors under."

"Let me lay all your concerns to rest, Rukia-chan." Yoruichi held up four fingers. "Let's go in reverse order. For starters, you've already accepted a petition from the head of another noble household, which thoroughly binds you to carry out that obligation. Doing otherwise would only bring shame upon the Kuchiki. And you can still perform most of your household duties in absentia."

She began to tick a finger for every point she made.

"Secondly, I've arranged for you to be moved down the list of management heads for the Halos. You're set to take over the fifth one once it's completed. If and when that actually happens."

Rukia frowned a little upon hearing that.

"Third, Urahara Kisuke is officially assuming command of Ibis Company and the Shinigami Research and Development Bureau. You're off the hook from that forever."

A shiver went up her spine. Better get Kon out of there quick, she thought secretly.

"And lastly, I've asked Captain Kotetsu to strip you of your rank as lieutenant. She agreed."

Say WHAT? Rukia's eyes flew wide. A very nasty and painful kidō spell flashed through her mind.

"Just kidding, sweetie." The svelte shape-shifter snickered in a very immature fashion. "Wow, you should have seen the look you gave me. Raised the hackles on my neck, let me tell you! But seriously, all kidding aside, you're still the Second Seat of Heron Squad. However Isane and I discussed it, and we feel that with shinigami personnel resources still stretched thin between Soul Society and Earth, it behooves us to keep at least one top-ranking officer in an established earthbound scouting position. This person would then be able to immediately react should any Hollow far beyond the norm crop up. So you'll still be able to lead your division in the field if it becomes necessary. Plus a certain retired acquaintance of ours who is well-versed in handling the paper side of the job has agreed to lend you their assistance in keeping up with the load."

Yoruichi scooted in closer until they were practically nose to nose. "Believe me, I've thought this through. You've both got special gigai waiting for you along with a very convincing cover story. Everyone will blend right in, and you'll have all the help you need. How can you possibly turn down such an offer?"

When she looked away, uncertain how to respond to all this, the part-time feline placed a finger beneath Rukia's jaw and tilted her head up slightly. Hesitant purple eyes met very self-assured golden ones. "And more importantly, why would you want to? You've both been waiting for this chance. _He_ still needs your help, after all."

Noboru furrowed his brow at this, clearly curious as to what she might mean. Rukia, however, had not a trace of doubt what that devious woman was insinuating. The image of a sour-faced teenager with orange hair flashed unbidden into her thoughts. She had been trying not to spend too much time thinking about him ever since the run-in with Kon. And she had been rather proud of how admirably she succeeded in that. Now it seemed as if her victorious resolve was all for not. They were practically being shoved back together again. Without any consideration for their own plans whatsoever.

_You never had a plan to get back with him, remember? At least none that would have worked._

That's true. Maybe this could even be considered a reward?

_Sounds like divine provenance to me._

No. We both know that's a lie. This is just more scheming from those around me. I don't even understand what's really going on here. It's all been decided beforehand, though. I can't get out. And the sad truth is, I don't want to.

_Rukia?_

Yes?

_WWYD?_

She considered this.

Right. Thanks.

_My pleasure._

"Yoruichi-sama," Rukia stated gravely while still staring into her eyes. "I admire you a great deal, but this is a very unfair thing you are doing to me. Naturally I intend to accept. However I will undertake this task only if you agree to allow me to exercise my own good judgment as to how we might best proceed from here on out. I will protect and look after your son. What I will not do is be a trusting pawn in whatever fresh vendetta you are bent on. You trusted me, and I will not betray you. Instead I want a chance to prove the merit of that trust. It's the only way I can be certain we all remain safe. Will you let me?"

Her royal counterpart cocked her head to study the determined little death god. "Listen to you. All formal and stoic. Like you're not bouncing up and down inside with excitement. I know what it's like to be young and in love, little sister. And believe me, I'd rather die than see you kids come to any harm." She then leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Rukia's cheek, causing the tiny spirit to lose that air of sophisticated austerity by blushing furiously. Yoruichi grinned upon seeing this. "You're a fantastic shinigami, and a beautiful person. That's why I picked you. Because I knew you wouldn't let me down. All right. I'll let you run the show on your own."

While a flustered Rukia was still trying to regain her composure, Yoruichi stood up and walked behind her. There came a faint growl laden with magic. Moments later a small black cat came padding around the other side of the dainty lieutenant's body. It looked up at them and spoke in a rough masculine voice. "We can discuss the details later. I'm going to take care of a few small matters. You two get to know one another while I'm out."

The were-cat sprang over to land on her son's shoulder. She licked his cheek, causing him to flinch in youthful embarrassment. "Be polite to your aunt," Yoruichi meowed. "She's earned it."

He squirmed but eventually nodded back. The black cat slid down and padded swiftly along the way they came. They watched her go before turning to face one another.

"So," Rukia said at last. "Is there anything you would like to ask me, Noboru-kun?"

He shrugged. "I dunno." Then the boy brightened a little. "Wait… can you show me what my father looks like?"

A peculiar gleam came into her eyes, and without hesitation Rukia produced a small drawing pad and a marker from inside her robe. "I would be glad to!"

Slinking away, Yoruichi glanced back to see her son leaning forward while Rukia engaged in enthusiastically scribbling on the floor. The ageless spymaster paused to enjoy the touching scene before proceeding on her way.

Upon reaching the stairs, she heard her Noboru's voice carrying faintly down the hallway.

"What is that, a porcupine?"

There then came the sound of somebody being smacked, followed by an angry bout of shouting.

Yoruichi smiled to herself. Yes, this is indeed going to be fun.

* * *

><p>The shutter clicked.<p>

"This is me inspecting Komamura-dono's herb bed. Notice a heavy emphasis on thyme and fennel, which make excellent additions to ground meat dishes."

The shutter clicked.

"This is me approaching the house for work on the morning of the Hunt's first sighting. It snowed that day."

The shutter clicked.

"This is me punching somebody's face. I'm not sure who, we didn't exchange names."

The screen was filled by the image of a big beefy man boasting short Zaraki-like hair. The rest of his features were hard to make out owing to the dainty fist smashing directly into his nose. One visible eye looked ready to pop out of its socket, and several teeth were floating around outside his mouth. Almost like little moons orbiting a big ugly head, Isshin reflected.

"This is me with Captain Abarai. It almost looks like he is waving hello. Let's all wave back at Captain Abarai, now."

No one moved.

"You will wave at Captain Abarai, or we are starting over."

They all proceeded to do so in desultory fashion.

"Very good." After this the shutter clicked.

On and on it went. The slides were arranged in no particular order. For a fussy person like Nanao that might come as a surprise. Unless you noticed the cold calculating cruel part of her personality she tried to hide from the world. By discarding a chronological sequence, it left her viewers with no hope of guessing when this abominable anguish might actually come to an end. They could be halfway through or still on the first set.

"This is me with Karin addressing the Quincy Uryu Ishida. His clothes are well-tailored."

The shutter clicked. That noise was really starting to bother Isshin. Slumped dejectedly on the couch in his darkened living room, he and the other two were now paying for their lack of consideration in regards to Nanao. The Dragon Lady, as his children called her, was firmly in control of the rest of their afternoon. Had they been at this for three minutes, or half an hour? It was hard to tell. Every second seemed to drag by slowly. Very, very slowly. It was like the hands of the clock themselves were struggling to stay awake against this onslaught.

Slumped beside him, Shinji leaned in a little and whispered, "Where do you even get a slide projector nowadays?"

The doctor merely shrugged.

Clearly nettled, Hirako glanced warily over where Nanao was manning the equipment before asking, "And who was taking these pictures anyway? I don't recall seeing anybody with her. Did the R&D boys make hell butterflies with video recording features in the last century?"

"You're asking me?" he muttered back.

Ise whipped a baleful glare in their direction. Both men quickly clammed up and sat straight to pay close attention to the screen. Loafing in the recliner, Kisuke Urahara gave a mighty yawn without bothering to cover his mouth.

"And here…" Nanao reached over and rapped his hand with her long metal pointer. The affable genius swore and sucked his smarting knuckles with a hurt expression. Across the way Shinji snickered before receiving another scowl from their heartless taskmistress.

Amazing, Isshin thought. It's just like being back at the Academy.

_C'mon, buddy! Turn that frown upside down! It's a beautiful day, two of your best friends are in town, and to top it off there's a cute girl close at hand. See if she'll pour us all some drinks and then offer her a snifter of sherry!_

I don't think Nanao imbibes.

_Any lieutenant of Kyoraku Shunsui must be able to hold their liquor, amigo. Now quit making excuses. I know how embarrassed my little master gets around girls-_

QUIET! They'll hear you!

_But you need to get right back on that horse, m'man! Just pretend she's your daughter; whip out some crazy exercises to impress her while rattling off whatever comes to mind. That'll show your masculinity and that you're not afraid to laugh at yourself! I'll bet you anything Nanao is as lonely as she looks. You've got a chance, buddy! So why don't you just take it?_

Because I love life and detest pain, that's why.

_She could go a long way towards easing that pain, brother. _

Can we discuss this some other time? I think she's picking up our voices.

_Rain check, sure, I read you loud and clear. Have some fun with your pals and then we'll see about getting you some action, you wild man!_

The living weapon's presence faded. There were times Isshin felt annoyed by his partner's endlessly optimistic outlook on life.

"Here Captain Odelschvank is dancing with her _fracción_."

He immediately perked up at the sight of the delectable Neliel striking a pose in a very revealing outfit. Beside him Shinji wolf-whistled, earning him another death-look from Nanao which he gladly accepted. Urahara had laced his hands behind his head and flung out his legs while grinning like a fool. Rather than being pleased at their newfound attention, however, the scowling sorceress promptly cut off the projector. There were disappointed cries as the image of the F-cup cowgirl disappeared.

"The problem remains," Nanao Ise flicked on the lights before slowly pacing back to rejoin them. "There is nothing to indicate Nirvana has been unlocked. If Barragan Luisenbarn did indeed seal away the Hunt he would have required a tremendous amount of power to do it. And if the binding was forcibly broken, then we're dealing with someone who possesses equivalent strength to a _vasto lorde_."

Isshin crossed his arms and contemplated the ceiling. "Have we been complacent?" he wondered aloud. "I didn't think so. Really, what are the odds of some terrible new enemy we've never noticed before popping up out of the blue? It's more likely someone we already know about."

"I expect we're all thinking along the same lines, so I'm just going to say it." Shinji Hirako scanned the group with deceptively lazy eyes. "Does anybody know where Gin Ichimaru can be found?"

When no one responded, not even Urahara, the Vaizard leaned forward and laced his fingers beneath his chin. "It makes a whole lotta sense. He was Aizen's lieutenant, is steeped in the world of the Hollows, and lest we forget, one of the captains who was sent to confront the Wild Hunt on its last recorded appearance."

All cast speculative looks at Kisuke, who lifted free his trademark hat to scratch absently at shaggy blonde hair. "Believe me, I have given the matter prior thought. And as Shinji stated it definitely makes a good deal of sense. In an obvious, formulaic, cookie-cutter kind of way. You know, like when someone's trying to lead you around by the nose?"

"You'd know all about that," Isshin commented drily.

The platinum-eyed inventor merely doffed his hat without bothering to recognize the jab. "We certainly shouldn't rule Ichimaru out as a likely candidate. The man's devious as they get and about as trustworthy as a cobra. Even if he did provide us with support in the past, that doesn't preclude the possibility he's slithered into somebody else's camp who made him a better offer. I simply don't want us to focus all our efforts in one direction when the real threat is hiding behind us. Anyone else?"

They must be thinking along the same lines, Isshin reflected. Why else would nobody want to say it aloud? After all, there was a suspect almost as likely as Ichimaru. Yet no one spoke.

In the midst of this pregnant silence Shinji Hirako sat as the unofficial center of attention. The bob-haired rake didn't move in the slightest to recognize their unspoken concerns. He looked as calm as could be. Even when his mouth finally opened the words he spoke came out sounding completely relaxed.

"Grimmjow Jeaguerjaques."

Even Nanao seemed to hesitate at this point. She shared a meaningful look with both Isshin and Urahara before cautiously proceeding. "Grimmjow… last of Aizen's _Espada _that remains free_. _A very powerful _arrancar _who, according to the testimony of both Captains Abarai and Odelschvank, was under Barragan Luisenbarn's possession during the war. This could imply he might have been charged with locating the Hunt should his master fail to release them on his own. His whereabouts are currently… unknown."

"That's right." Their half-Hollow ally had fallen to inspecting his fingernails while lazing back on the couch. "As far as we can tell, he hasn't been spotted in Hueco Mundo since… well, you know."

He still can't say it, Isshin thought as he watched his associate closely. The _Sexta Espada_ had indeed disappeared into the depths of Hueco Mundo after he and his pack murdered Hachigen Ushōda. He recalled receiving reports about how the Masked Army had reacted to the loss of one of their own. For a time there they had been engulfed by their dark sides and simply slaughtered any Hollow unlucky enough to cross their path. Things only calmed down after there was nothing in a given area left for them to kill. He could understand their grief. The gentle giant had been his own squad's lieutenant back when the Kidō Corps was captained by Tessai Tsukabishi. A formidable wizard in his own right, Hachigen had commanded respect and even admiration amongst their ranks. Which was highly remarkable in and of itself. Sorcerers were famously antisocial, after all. Another benefit Isshin had enjoyed about the profession. There were rare exceptions, Unohana Retsu ranking at the top of the list (and look what became of her). But Hachigen's helpful considerate nature served to win over even those long used to being outcasts.

Which was not to say everyone jumped on the jolly bandwagon. In spite of being their company's Fifth seat at the time, Isshin had never met the Second seat prior to his departure, which was a testimony to just how secretive that reclusive enclave could be. Even their own officers didn't pry into each other's affairs that often. Sometimes you didn't know who the officers were. None of them had been all that big on rules and regulations to begin with, which was what made the Kidō Corps a perfect fit.

"We only caught the tail end of his scent." Isshin pulled himself out of his reverie as Shinji continued to report. The unusually somber Vaizard was rubbing his thumb and index finger together in a curious manner. "A goodly portion of his new pack fell to us but none of them were… up to talking once we finished with them. By the time we were done venting he had completely disappeared. Rose and Love are of the opinion that he retreated into the dead zone of Hueco Mundo to escape us. If Grimmjow stumbled across the Wild Hunt while on the run, he might have seen it as an opportunity to replenish the packmates already lost."

Nanao stroked her chin in deliberation. "This could be his first step towards establishing his own hierarchy. A new _Espada._"

"Without the hōgyoku I don't see that happening," Urahara spoke up. "As our resident expert, I can testify that a Hollow who undergoes mask removal without the aid of the hōgyoku would only achieve a relatively small increase in power. Not worth the time now that Aizen's gone."

A sense impinged on Isshin's perceptions. Whoops, time's up. He hurriedly stood. "Well, there's no use engaging in idle speculation at this point. I recommend we all retreat to our respective lairs and formulate means of locating the prime suspects in order to whittle them down. I'm afraid that's all we have time for today anyway. My kids are coming back."

"Is it that late already?" Kisuke frowned and once more studied his pocketwatch. "I really would get this thing replaced, only it's an authentic Belasco timepiece! He used to break one regularly and then claim it had been his mother's. You know, to motivate his actors to perform once they saw how distraught he was. Afterwards he just bought a new one. They command a high price on eBay."

None of them dared to mention they could have accomplished a lot more were it not for Nanao's little slideshow. Hirako sighed heavily before springing upright. He moved out to the hall in order to retrieve his shoes and coat. "I'll tell the others to be on the lookout," he called while slipping on some utterly tacky white loafers. "We'll try to flush out any rats from our end. You geniuses just be prepared to deal with the fallout when we do." He waved goodbye over his shoulder, then opened the front door and plodded away without another word.

"Say hi to the kids for me!" Urahara sang sweetly. He picked up his cane and gave an exaggerated bow before slipping out the back.

Nanao turned to regard her employer. "I'll prepare some refreshments for the children. After which it will be time for Ichigo's training."

Isshin turned back to her. "How is my son doing anyway?"

The master enchantress pointedly avoided his eyes as she turned to begin disassembling her slide setup. "Judging by his performance, I would never have guessed the two of you were related."

He crossed his arms with a sigh. "That's what I thought you'd say."

* * *

><p>The Hollow turned its head slowly from side to side, cracking its neck as though relieving a cramp. It licked its black teeth and shivered in a way that was completely vile. What's worse, it seemed to notice this effect. The heartless creature then swiveled lazily to face the figure standing beside it.<p>

'**Still think you know what you're doing?' **the beast murmured in that eerily familiar voice which made its listener's spine stiffen. This caused the Hollow to smirk. **'That's pitiful. You're scared shitless now. What? Afraid I'm gonna take a bite out of your rich little ass?'**

"**Spare me your attitude,"** the observer replied in a voice similar to the beast's. Wrapped in a full-form robe that hid any identifying characteristics, this individual remained motionless in the face of a screaming hurricane that raged before them. **"The only reason you can even be here now is thanks to me. Unless you've suddenly gained the strength to overcome Ichigo all on your own?"**

The Hollow only chuckled in response, but did not continue. Instead it just laced both hands behind its spiky white hair and smirked. Every now and then it shivered as though cold. Or excited. There was no way to tell. Asking was out of the question.

They stood together before what looked to be a wall of raw wind and sand that stretched high into the starless sky. A full moon so huge it could have engulfed the old citadel of Las Noches hung just above the horizon. Otherwise there was nothing else in sight. This close to the dead zone of Hueco Mundo, hardly any landscape remained. The unrestrained chaos at the heart of this domain seemed to reach beyond its visible boundaries to repel anything that existed, even identifying landmarks. Only sheer force of will allowed them to approach the hurricane. You actually had to get lost to find your way here. Like a maze without walls. And this juggernaut of a sandstorm was the minotaur that lurked at the center waiting in bloody baited anticipation for anyone to come too close.

I can't let him know how afraid I really am.

**Then let me address him, hmm?**

Stay down. I can handle this.

**No use pretending. This bastard knows you fear him. Ever since we first faced off during Ichigo's training. He can scent it as well as I can. In fact, that's the only reason he's cooperating with us. **

Just let me work.

**He's frightened too. Use that.**

All right. I will. Now be quiet.

**Oh, as you command, Your Highness.**

With this inner dialogue resolved, the observer spoke in a controlled manner. **"Our deal still stands. I'll help you get what you want in exchange for your cooperation. When it's done there won't be anything left for you to fear."**

The Hollow turned a look of pure insane glee in their direction. **"What have I got to be afraid of?"**

"**The same thing we all fear. Forgiveness."**

It looked uncertain for just a moment before letting out a snort of laughter. **"Damn, but you're a sweet-talker! Right from when we first met I thought how much fun it'd be to eat your face."**

A sense of confidence came in spite of recognizing the full force of this threat. He's not so sure of himself now. I have the upper hand. Need to keep it that way or he'll grow even more troublesome. **"This newfound freedom you're enjoying wouldn't last a second beyond my death. Then you'd be right back where I found you, squatting in the depths of Kurosaki's soul, waiting for him to figure out what he needed to end your life for good." **

The edge of casual indifference in those words appeared to incense the creature, but it still made no move to attack. Even monsters like this had some measure of restraint when it came to their own self-preservation. Time to drive the truth home deeper. **"You've been of great help to me. But don't assume you have any control in this relationship. I make the rules. With the Wild Hunt now under my command, I expect a greater degree of cooperation on your part. Unless you want to wind up as their next meal."**

That might have been overplaying their hand. This only became obvious after the words were spoken. To make matters worse, any previous insecurity on the Hollow's part was no longer evident. When it chuckled next, it was the most disturbingly self-satisfied sound one could ever imagine.

"**And here you couldn't have even broken them out if it weren't for me. Seems everybody thinks I'm just a grunt they can order around when it pleases 'em. No big deal, Ichigo acts the same way. My sword's at his disposal almost like it is for you." **A very unwholesome twist of the lips exposed those midnight teeth even further. It almost seemed to drool at its next statement.** "Except in the king's place, there's no deep dark secret I can hold over his head to get any sort of leverage."**

The hurricane continued its endless rampage against earth and sky uninterrupted by spoken words.

**He knows, my liege.**

SHUT UP!

"**That's right," **the Hollow sang as though aware of their conversation. It strolled forward a few paces until it stood before the dead zone's barrier. One white hand reached up to stroke that almost solid surface of natural destruction. Fingertips trailed over it, and black blood flowed. The Hollow then pushed its arm in up to the elbow. The onlooker winced in commiseration. **"Your friends the Vaizard would be real disappointed if I let slip that it wasn't Grimmjow who killed their fat friend." **He rounded on them, removing his arm. The sleeve of his coat was gone, and streaks of black blood drew all along that bone-white skin to form what looked like spiderwebs. **"It was you."**

**Kill him. **

Don't you dare order _me._

**Him or us. Do it now, before he can reveal our secret!**

No.

**They'll turn on you if they ever find out, you know. Chop off your head and hold it up by the hair. Feed your bleeding corpse to lesser Hollows. The witch lied to us, she's never going to return! We have to fend for ourselves the best way we c…**

_Flee._

Held in that one word was power greater than either of them were capable of expressing whether joined together or not. It held the reverberations of a sorceress unmatched in any dimension, whose power existed even in a mere echo of the enchantments she had spoken long past that first subjugated this dark fragment of a soul. The inner Hollow was picked up in an angry snarling rush of wind that carried it away to the deepest depths of their shared dwelling. Its presence faded in response until only the rightful ruler of that soul remained in forced seclusion.

"**Was it getting a bit too crowded for you in there?"**

Now feeling much more secure, the lone Vaizard turned on Ichigo Kurosaki's Hollow. "You should go back to him. I don't want to run the risk of something important happening when you aren't present. We need to stay aware of any developments in our enemies."

"**Look who's the big fucking mastermind," **the Hollow breathed, tucking both hands into its pant pockets while strolling forward. **"Trying to fill your master's shoes. Too bad you're all he has left to work with, huh? Not much in terms of material if you ask me." **

The seeming teenager stopped a few paces off when the point of a bared zanpakutō came up to tickle its throat. White eyebrows rose on its face in a teasing manner. That was the Hollow's only reaction. It had no sword of its own to threaten with now. Ichigo's current mastery prevented the monstrosity from manifesting that level of opposition. All the same, being unarmed hardly lessened the threat it posed. Even a bared soul cutter somehow seemed ineffectual when pitted against that all-powerful freak slouching casually with bare feet buried in the sand.

Anger rose to the fore, and the wielder of that sword spoke without regard for whatever might come next. "Let's be clear about one thing, animal. I'm not particularly concerned about losing you. I made it this far all on my own, but I need strong allies if I'm going to win. And I dearly need for my side to win." A small mean smile then shone from within the depths of that hood. "But somehow, even with everything I have to lose as a result, part of me honestly looks forward to the day when Ichigo finally, _mercifully_…" special emphasis was placed on this word that the Hollow didn't miss, judging by how its eyes narrowed, "… kills you."

The Hollow tilted its head up slightly. **"Go home," **it whispered, **"and pray I don't decide to rat your sorry ass out." **

So saying, it faded away, leaving the Vaizard alone in that desert. The dead zone continued to twist and thrash in all its frenzied glory. The sole observer to all this made no move to leave, anticipation and doubt building with every moment.

An enormous foot thrust through the sandstorm and slammed into the dunes before them to send white sands cascading up like a cataract.

They let out a satisfied breath of satisfaction. "Cernunnos," the watcher greeted its returning servant.

The rest of that ancient entity emerged slowly into view. Upon finally pulling free of the dead zone the Hunt Master reared hundreds of feet overhead. Cernunnos was naked in the manner of all wild things. While every Hollow held a certain bestial element, this seemed to be magnified in the leader of the Hunt. It boasted the clawed legs of a lizard that tucked in under themselves as it squatted down on the ground. The torso resembled some type of primate, most of whose hair had fallen out perhaps owing to disease. A great hole caved in the chest between stomach and pectorals. It leaned forward on long ropy arms corded in muscle. Huge knuckles sank into the desert for support, lending it even further resemblance to a gorilla. The reptilian scales of this horror were dull black in a way that almost made them appear to have no substance at all. In contrast the pitted skin of its body was a ghostly white that glowed under the moonlight. Great brutish fingers twitched in aimless flickering.

Perched at the very heights of this weird assemblage was its enormous mask, so big it hardly fit on its shoulders and had to be anchored there by bone plates. The skull was reminiscent of a bull with its mouth perpetually open owing to canines like great walrus tusks. But in place of the horns that would normally be seen on such an animal there instead sprouted a vast branching network of stag antlers. These wicked points were so numerous they almost seemed to weigh its head down. From the base of its skull there grew a shaggy mane falling in a long tangled carpet of hair that resembled hundreds of pelts grown together. This furred collar stank fiercely, lending even further inclination to believe it was composed from the skins of Cernunnos' victims.

A new noise accompanied this creature. Mingled with the ceaseless howl of the storm there was something like the baying of a thousand hounds. If you looked closely, you could discern shadows wavering in the depths of the dead zone, perhaps drawing closer. The watching shinigami hybrid observed all this, and spoke.

"You failed."

Enormous yellow eyes opened like lamps in sockets the size of swimming pools. Cernunnos slowly lowered its head further to focus on the speaker. No sound came from that frozen mask of bone. Not a word, not even a growl. The Master of the Wild Hunt simply waited patiently.

The Vaizard met its gaze, then turned away. "It doesn't matter. I am still satisfied with your potential. We'll continue to cooperate for the time being."

At this the cloaked figure set off across the desert towards home.

Cernunnos remained in its spot for a while before it too broke away and loped in a different direction. In its wake, over a hundred devolved Menos burst from the dead zone and went howling across the landscape. This wave of chaos engulfed Cernunnos so that mindless horrors sprang and scrabbled to each side of it. The Hunt Master paid its followers no heed. It ambled purposefully along into the occupied regions of Hueco Mundo.

Where they all could feed.

* * *

><p>Waves swept against the shore, their sound reminding him of a snake slithering over stones. Gin had parked himself on an outcropping of rock jutting into the ocean to wait. His clothes were damp from seaspray and there was a distinct chance he might need to change his socks. The inconveniences inherent to a physical form almost made him glad his time as a mortal had been short-lived. Then again, dying hardly solved all one's problems. Better off dead, better off alive; who's to say what constituted a more favorable method of existence? Maybe most folks shouldn't even be born at all.<p>

The phone in his pocket beeped. He withdrew it quickly to confirm she was drawing closer. By his feet there rested a lengthy object inside, quite appropriately, a body bag. There had been no witnesses to his procuring this long-held keepsake. The bother of transporting it here without anyone being the wiser far exceeded the inconvenience of having kept such a useful item in the first place. In their position, it paid to have as many cards in your hand as you could manage.

While he was busily inspecting the turbulent horizon, his phone rang. Gin promptly answered.

"I'm here. Where are you?"

"How should I know? Everything feels the same!"

He resisted the urge to sigh. "Look, I know you've been down there for a few days, and it's easy to get turned around in the ocean. But unless you want me to chuck this gigai in to bob along like a lifebuoy, you'll make an effort to get up here."

"You angel! I knew you wouldn't let me down! I'll be right there."

An amused chuckle escaped his throat even as the connection terminated. For a time he simply waited. The tide continued to collide against his readout, churning the waves into foam. Ichimaru observed this natural savagery with eagerness for what came next.

His patience was soon rewarded, as from out of the whipped breakers there emerged a shining golden head.

"Ah, here comes my Venus!"

Blue eyes flashed their pique in his direction. "Hardy-har-har."

"Would you rather be my Madonna of the Rocks?" the _kitsune_ exposed his teeth winningly.

"Want me to drown you, dammit?" Matsumoto glared daggers his way. Gin simply chortled as she slipped gracefully through the bag containing her gigai. Seconds later there came a rustling. He waited in childish anticipation for what must come next.

Eventually a muffled voice spoke. "Gin?"

"Yes, my fulsome darling?" he sang.

"Unzip this thing already!"

"Your wish is my command." He then bent down and proceeded to do so. As the bag opened, Gin couldn't help relishing the sight of a naked Matsumoto Rangiku lounging inside its depths. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. Of course such poetic inclinations were nothing compared to the rock-hard desire at seeing her like this. Every movement she made seemed to accentuate the appeal of her glorious body. When she looked up at him with her tropical blue eyes crossly, he couldn't help himself. Bending down Gin curled an arm around her midsection and kissed her passionately.

She didn't waste time returning his affection. Her arms wrapped around his neck, a delighted moan issuing from her throat. He was just about to lift her completely free when Rangiku yanked him down. Surprised, Gin pulled back and nearly lost his self control at the seductive smile she sported. "Why don't you join me in here?" the matchless female purred. "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be zipped up inside a body bag with right now."

"Then how would we get out?" he murmured. Not because he truly opposed the idea, but for an excuse not to fall victim to her charms again before asking some questions. "More importantly, why did you need me to come all the way out here?"

"If you had told me where it was in the first place, I wouldn't have had to bother you," she smiled, contentedly rubbing her fingers through his long dyed hair. "Hiding in the ocean was the only way to mask my spirit signature until you got back."

Her touch on his skin sent jolts of pleasure rattling up Ichimaru's spine in the most delicious display of weakness imaginable. In their current situation, it was almost impossible to be so close to the woman of his dreams and not engage in lovemaking. They had been denied one another for too long up 'til now. But his anxieties were long-ingrained. They had kept him alive, kept them both safe. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted so easily. And yet neither could he forego the ecstasy of rubbing his hands across her flawless torso. Gin swept his long fingers over those enormous breasts, cupping her nipples and grinning when she gasped in response. He took the opportunity to admire her before proceeding with his questioning. "How many did you find before they caught you?"

"Seven." She fairly glowed now, teasing and seductive and wanting to be played with. It was unfair but he hardly cared. There was no way he would underestimate her by thinking she couldn't look sexy and know her business all at once. "Most from Ichigo's class. Three girls and two boys. The teacher too. I was starting with them, but then I noticed several of the little buggers flapping around the Kurosaki house. Way more than for any of the others. I got worried that it might be dangerous for the kid, so I went after Karin in a hurry." Rangiku hugged him closer with a groan that spoke of a restrained longing equal to his own. "First the Hunt showed up out of nowhere, then Nanao got in the way. That woman has absolutely no forgiveness in her. I can't understand how she could treat me so awfully!" The dazzling blonde nuzzled against his neck, pouting. "I almost died."

He grinned while kissing her shoulder tenderly. "Well, you did murder a bunch of people."

"Oh, don't start that again. If you hadn't wanted me to kill, you shouldn't have told me about them! What did you expect me to do, anyway? Run off and tell a captain? Screw that!"

"Maybe I was hoping for a little more discretion on your part," Gin countered, now thoroughly tangled up with her. "When I told you the identities of all the people Aizen had turned to his side throughout the years, I certainly didn't expect you to round them all up and butcher them! If I'd thought they were truly dangerous I would have killed them myself."

"Maybe I just meant to talk at first." Rangiku turned her head away, voice growing wistful. "But when I saw how many answered the secret call you showed me, well… I got pissed! There they all were, milling around waiting for their mighty Aizen to pop up and give them their orders. Then they'd go right back to masquerading like they were one of us. I couldn't stand the thought that those damn traitors might walk around with decent shinigami who blindly gave them their trust, all the while ready to stab the poor saps in the back immediately afterwards!"

He turned her face so she could look at him. Red eyes were not visible in her blue ones on account of the contact lenses he wore, but Gin wouldn't have cared either way. "I love you for caring about those idiots so much. But I wish you might have at least left a note explaining your actions before quitting! You must have known they would take it the wrong way and assume you were a traitor too."

Matsumoto snorted. "They never gave me enough credit anyway. I would have told my captain, by way of thanks for all he did for me, but I just lost interest! You can't blame me," and here she kissed the place where his missing fingers were in gentle longing. "I wanted to get back to you more than anything. What those hidebound goofs think doesn't matter. We know the truth."

"I suppose I'm flattered," he admitted when she broke away. "But if we want to find out who's behind this harvesting, it might behoove us to cooperate a little. Not that I'm thrilled at the idea."

"Most likely they're already blaming you for the Wild Hunt. It's just how they are." Matsumoto pointed this out before slumping back with a sigh. Golden hair spilled all around her head, and her nose wrinkled in annoyance. "You know, I just realized it's freaking cold out here. If we're not going to fuck, do you think I might borrow some clothes?"

Reaching out, Gin produced a bag of assorted clothing articles. "Versace label, my lady?"

Her eyes lit up before she grabbed his face for another toe-tingling kiss. After this he didn't want to restrain himself anymore. Gin proceeded to tear his clothes off while Rangiku whooped and eagerly helped him to undress.

_So much for firm resolve, Gin._

Go piss on someone else's parade. I'm busy.

_Have it your way, lover boy._

* * *

><p><em>You're dragging your feet, Ichigo.<em>

Maybe if I'm late enough she'll get bored and go home.

_Doubtful. But rest assured she'll be twice as hard on you if you seem uninterested. _

It's my only means of getting back at her, Jii-san.

To say that Ichigo had nothing to look forward to this evening was putting it mildly. The trip back home after kendō practice saw him in even lower spirits than usual. Knowing that he had only kidō training with Nanao in store for him made every step feel heavier than the last. Was it wrong to pray for a Hollow to pop up, thereby allowing him to skip their magical education in order to save the day?

No. Not under these circumstances.

_Watch it._

Watch what?

*SMACK!*

Something hit him right in the face and clung there. Maybe it was the result of playing too many sci-fi video games with Tatsuki, but his first reaction was 'Face-hugger'! With a yell Ichigo snatched away the offending object and held it out at arm's length.

For just a second, he caught a glimpse of a colorful dark butterfly fluttering away before it disappeared.

Mystified, the teen looked at what he now clutched. It proved to be nothing more menacing than a sheet of white paper. A flier of some sorts. Before he could read it another fact dawned upon him. There were more of these scattered all around the street. They blew idly in the wind, settling against benches and collecting in drainage ditches. It looked like somebody had gone overboard in announcing their festival, sale, or whatever this turned out to be. The sight made him think of snow lingering over city streets. Maybe it was owing to this being the tail-end of winter.

Simply glad to have an excuse to malinger for a little while, he read what was printed on the page. The first thing he noticed were the cartoonish rabbit heads smiling up at him. In addition there was a drawing that looked like a house around which pranced several little animal characters. Or maybe they were meant to be people. Obviously the person behind this event decided to save some cash by getting their three-year-old to do the illustrations. He could have laughed at how poorly drawn these things were if not for past experience teaching him it was unwise to mock other's attempts at creativity. It only brought pain all around. Though truthfully if he inspected them closely they did look almost as bad as…

Hey.

Wait a second.

A sense of impending recognition almost caused him to miss the text that accompanied these pictures. He had barely finished reading when it slipped through his nerveless fingers. The flier fluttered to the ground, landing face up to reveal its advertisement for all to see.

*** 'Urahara Shoten' Grand Reopening! Under NEW management! Now with NEW Name! Stop by the 'USAGI SHOTEN' for great deals! ***

Ichigo took off running as fast as he possibly could.

His surroundings were accorded only enough consideration to prevent any accidents. Shortcuts were employed. Crowds were navigated. Fellow passersby were carefully avoided from crashing into. A few cars honked their horns at him, and some of those crossings might technically have counted as jaywalking. But aside from a few dirty looks that he hardly noticed, no one called him on it. The fliers were growing more numerous. They blew around him in the manner of a snowstorm that he had to fight through just to make any headway.

Not that they could have stopped him. Ichigo was a man on a mission, as any fool could see. And everywhere he went, those fliers kept coming, as if someone had left a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow.

No need, really. He knew where he was going; it was simply a matter of getting there in one piece.

There was a crowd in front of the dirt lot. People coming and going, some clutching their purchases while several children held tightly to balloons with smiling beady-eyed rabbits drawn on them. Ichigo stumbled to a halt, finally noticing the stitch in his side. Had he really run all the way here from school? Obviously yes. He was panting and sweating, no doubt looking quite suspicious if the wary glances he received from a few matronly ladies was any indication. Not even allowing himself enough time to catch his breath, the substitute shinigami slipped into the crowd, elbowing and jostling the other attendees in order to make his way towards the innocuous two-story building that was their shared destination.

"I'M NEVER SHOPPING HERE AGAIN, MAN!"

"NEVER _SHOPLIFTING_ HERE AGAIN, YOU MEAN! HIT THE BRICKS, YOU SNOT-NOSED HOOLIGAN!"

Ichigo's ears pricked up.

"YOU GOT NOTHING ON ME, LARD-ASS!"

"_LARD_-ASS? OH, NOW YOU'VE DONE IT! MAKE WAY, GENTLEFOLK! THIS THIEF IS GOING TO BE TURNED OVER TO THE AUTHORITIES!"

The crowd before him parted as a big burly man sporting a bandana on his scalp and wearing a yellow robe and sandals came barging through. He held a shame-faced local kid by the collar of his shirt. The boy struggled in vain to free himself while his captor continued to thunder in a loud voice.

"NO DOUBT HE'LL LOSE A HAND FOR HIS WICKED WAYS, BUT WE WON'T LET THEM DO IT HERE! NOT IN FRONT OF OUR VALUED CUSTOMERS, NO SIR! AND…"

The loudmouthed employee left off his yelling and drew to a halt upon spotting the redheaded teen standing in stunned bewilderment before him.

"Oh, hey, Ichigo," Ganju Shiba said in a much more normal tone of voice.

"Hey."

On instinct, he then hauled off and socked the bigger man right in his jaw.

Ganju collapsed. The boy he held wriggled free and made a bid for freedom by disappearing into the crowd. While his former nemesis scrambled to a sitting position Ichigo knelt down beside him. He ignored the queer looks they were getting from the other customers. "Where's the boss?" he asked in a quiet voice still laden with menace.

"Bastard! I'll get you for this." Upon noting the expression on Ichigo's face, however, Ganju reconsidered any idea of continuing their rivalry at this time. Rubbing his sore cheek he grudgingly indicated over his shoulder. "She's inside, talking to that military officer who showed up."

"Thanks."

Feeling a great deal calmer now, Kurosaki stood and rejoined the press. He deftly maneuvered his way through the throng of shoppers until he came at last to the familiar doorway. Positioned by the entrance next to a ceramic statue of a smiling bunny in a farmer's hat was Ururu. The dour little brunette made eye contact briefly before quickly looking away. "Welcome to the Usagi Shoten, sir," she mumbled in a voice so soft he hardly heard her over the hubbub. "Please examine our wares. All in-stock items half-off today only, to celebrate our grand reopening."

A similar version of this greeting was repeated for everyone aiming to enter the establishment. Ichigo passed her by hoping to locate more familiar faces. There were plenty of candies, foodstuffs and department store items on sale. No sign of Jinta anywhere, though he did notice a brown-skinned boy with messy black hair carrying a box off through a sliding door marked 'Employees Only'. The kid cast him a scowling glance in passing that made Ichigo's flesh crawl for some reason.

This vague misgiving passed quickly. For at last he picked up on the only voice that mattered. Stealing over towards the exit the new kid had passed through, filled with trepidation and anticipation mingled together, the hopeful teen pretended to examine some wares on a shelf while he peeked around the doorframe.

His heart began to pound.

There she is.

Rukia Kuchiki stood before a stern middle-aged police officer. Dressed in a purple and blue kimono complete with sandals and jeweled pins stuck in her rich midnight hair, the sight of her was so utterly breathtaking it took him a few seconds to realize she was crying.

"Forgive me, good sir!" Rukia dabbed at her glistening cheeks with a white handkerchief. "It's simply that since the passing away of my parents I have been most grievous woeful! And now with my poor uncle fallen dreadfully ill and forced to convalesce in a seaside medical center, it is up to me to manage the family business! Such hardships do not make for an easy life, yet I am resolved to keep my loved ones from sinking into squalor and starvation. It is all I can do just to hang on in these times of turmoil. And now… to have learned that I have inadvertently broken the law in my youthful ignorance! Oh, woe is me!"

Rukia buried her face in her hands and began to sob. In her pretty classic attire the tiny dark-haired maiden looked to be the very picture of innocent distress. More than one of the customers regarded her with clear sympathy or scowled outright at the policeman responsible for provoking this sorrowful reaction. The lawman seemed aware of these accusing stares and was growing more flustered by the moment.

"Ah… I didn't mean to cause you any… further anxiety, _jouchan," _the beat cop rubbed the back of his neck in consternation. He fidgeted anxiously. "But you need permission to spread fliers around town. It disrupts traffic and…"

Her sobs only seemed to grow stronger at his awkward reassurances, wracking that small frame. Even knowing the truth it was all Ichigo could do to keep from getting a criminal record by assaulting that police officer right then and there. Fortunately he was spared this youthful indiscretion thanks to the other man's capitulation.

"Look, I think we can just let you off with a warning this time. But in the future I must insist you contact your local business bureau before engaging in promotional campaigns!"

"Thank you, sir," Rukia sniffed. She looked up at him with big shimmering eyes and smiled tremulously. "I am sorry to have inconvenienced an officer of the peace in his duties. Might I offer you a cup of tea by way of showing my appreciation for your generous diligence?"

"I wouldn't want to be an imposition, and I really should get back to my rounds."

"Oh, but I insist." The petite proprietress looked over her shoulder while still wearing that charming smile. "Would you kindly escort the good officer to the dining area?"

"Right away, _Nee-s… _er, I mean, _Tensho." _A tall lanky guy with a buzz-cut moved into view from one side. He seemed a bit familiar, but before Ichigo could get a good look at his profile the fellow had already gone to escort their guest towards the back of the shop.

Rukia moved to follow. As she did, though, she glanced over and caught sight of Ichigo watching them. His face turned red in the most absurdly childish way possible, like he had been found spying on her or something equally incorrect. I can't let her think that, I've got to say something!

Before he could leap to his own defense, Rukia tilted her head and smiled.

'_Hello', _she mouthed at him.

'_Hey,' _he managed back after a few seconds.

Her eyes drifted over to the departing pair, and her lips then formed the words, _'Later. Busy now.'_

'_Okay,' _was his response. There was nothing more he could think to say at this time.

Rukia inclined her head at him gracefully. She then departed through the open door, pausing only to cast a small mischievous smile back in his direction before ducking under the flap and disappearing from sight.

Ichigo lingered in that spot staring after her for a while. Eventually, though, he decided it would be best to leave. Hanging around like this might make people suspicious of his intentions. And Ganju would probably be looking for payback. No sense making Rukia's first day any harder than it already is. So decided, the determined high-schooler made his way outside without any fanfare. He paused only to pat Ururu on the head, who blushed and seemed to forget her lines for a few seconds. Ichigo then ducked down to merge undetected with the departing crowd.

She's really back. For good this time, I can tell.

Wow.

The rest of the walk back home went in a daze. Everything just felt so good. And he meant everything, from the way train-crossing signals flashed to pigeons cooing as they pecked at scattered fliers in search of something to build their nests. It was all so incredibly _awesome!_

My life just turned around.

He made it to the clinic without any further mishaps, a happy smile on his face he barely even noticed. Ichigo opened the door humming to himself. He slipped off his dress shoes and donned some slippers before shambling into the kitchen. Yuzu was visiting a friend from class, he remembered, so it probably fell to him to whip up something to eat. Maybe eggs. That sounded good. Everything sounded good today.

As he was rummaging through the cupboard, Nanao Ise came walking in. She came to stand beside him and crossed her arms reproachfully.

"Do you have a good explanation for arriving late to your training, Kurosaki-san?"

Ichigo turned around to grin at her.

"Nope!"

He then picked up a carving knife and rammed it into Nanao's gut.

The bitch collapsed without a sound, blood pooling on the tiles beneath her body. Ichigo just stood there smiling down at the dying woman. A slight noise alerted him, and he picked up a heavy black wok before creeping over to stand beside the doorframe. Just like when he was in the store, he laughed to himself.

Isshin Kurosaki came racing around the corner. "WELCOME HO-!"

He swung the frying pan with all his strength, catching his father square in the chin. The sound of his neck snapping served to cut off whatever stupid greeting the dumb bastard had been about to give. Ichigo then stepped astride his fallen parent and began smashing his face with the heavy iron implement.

When the corpse had stopped twitching, the blood-stained teenager put the kitchen utensil back where he found it. He stepped over to the sink where he proceeded to wash the gore off. Drying his face with a towel, Ichigo placed it neatly back on the hook.

He then went upstairs. For Karin.

Ichigo jerked backwards with a strangled cry. The eggs he had been about to crack went soaring from his fingers to splatter against the ground. He stared down at them, trembling with horror. There was no blood. No bodies. Nothing at all. A dream. It was all…

**Hello, King.**

He staggered at the sound of that voice.

**Did you miss me?**

He did not respond. After a while the Hollow simply laughed before leaving him there.

Ichigo sat down at the kitchen table. He stared at his reflection in one of the pans hanging by a hook.

I'm not crying.

_I know, Ichigo._

When he looked up, Zangetsu was hoving beside him. The sword spirit's eyes were covered by shades, but still…

Jii-san, are _you_ crying?

The grim-faced older man turned his face away.

_I'll be waiting inside. Find me when you are finished with Nanao. We have work to do._

His zanpakutō disappeared, and Ichigo rose up.

His previous hunger was gone. Now he wanted only to train at kidō, swordplay, _anything. _He needed to acquire power, become strong. So strong that no Hollow, whatever its origin, could take anyone away from him again.

I'm going to win, he swore silently, and went to find Nanao.

_**Arc 1: FIN**_


	5. Chapter 5

She stood on the balcony of a red tower that grew out of the desert like a desolate tree. Or perhaps it was a bloodied giant's finger, stripped of skin by wind and sand. Featureless dunes rolled like waves on the sea. Could that just be the giant's flesh rippling? Alone atop this sole spire, she wore a pure white gown of superlative make. Uryū's design.

I'm dreaming, Orihime realized.

She also understood her previous assumption was false. She was not alone in this barren place.

Someone was out there.

They were standing a long ways off, on a dune so far that it was impossible to distinguish anything about them. Not even what sex they might be. But as she looked closer, Orihime saw that person raise their arms out towards her. And she knew what they were saying.

_Come down._

She made no move to comply. Her nightgown blew in a breeze. But she felt nothing.

He beckoned her. In his voice and his words was a smile. _Come down with me, Orihime._

It dawned on her who that was. The realization should have caused her heart to soar. And still she made no move from the balcony.

_Jump._

Tears came to her eyes.

_Jump down. I'll catch you._

She shook her head wildly, sending long orange locks flying. At no time in her life had Orihime ever been so afraid.

That's not him.

_It's me. _

No, it isn't.

_It's me. Come down with me. Come down where I am. Jump and I'll catch you. _

He made no move towards her. But his words were like a palm pressed flat against her back, pushing the barefooted girl against the balcony edge. Hard.

_Jump._

Tears fell as she tried to resist a terrible impulse to throw herself to certain death.

_Jump __**down!**_

A firm grip seized hold of her shoulders.

_**JUMP!**_

"ORIHIME!"

Hands pulled her away. Orihime spun about to find Tatsuki's panicked features right before her.

"Wake up, Orihime!"

She did. Inoue Orihime disappeared instantly.

Alone on the tower now, Tatsuki looked out across the desert to where the killer watched her still. Black blood streamed like ink down his white chin. She could see that much so horribly clear. He… no, _it_ smacked its lips and ran its tongue tauntingly over them.

"Who are you?" she croaked against the fear rising in her throat.

In response, it leered up at her.

**You don't know my name, Tatsuki?**

She flinched to hear her own fall from those horrible lips. This revulsion only seemed to make it more excited. The white ghoul raised its arms out towards _her_ now.

**Jump…**

"Eat shit," she rasped back.

Eyes ablaze, the nightmare out on the dunes howled.

Tatsuki Arisawa came awake screaming and thrashing in her bed. One flailing arm collided against something that popped like a balloon. There was a tiny noise, almost a wail, gone before her ears could even register it. She flung the blanket away, rolling off a bed that felt defiled. Landing on the cool floor only seemed to accentuate the feeling of alien violation coursing over her. Wildly the girl clawed at her skin, raking fingernails leaving long red marks across arms, legs and belly. Tatsuki tore her t-shirt and boxers apart in a frenzied effort to remove whatever stain that _thing _had left on her flesh.

She was wheezing and sweat-soaked, thoroughly revolted. When blood began to seep out and even that didn't seem like enough, the naked teen scrambled across the floor to her bathroom and threw herself into the shower, wrenching on the water. Without even waiting for it to warm up she sat shivering and hugging herself beneath the icy flow.

It was Ichigo. But it _wasn't _really him. Not the boy she knew. That bleached-white monster with the eyes of a Hollow only bore a terrifying resemblance to the moody youth she had known since childhood. And this freak had been in their dreams. Orihime and hers both. Or maybe I was just in hers? It wouldn't be the first such instance. If I hadn't been there this time, though…

The water was starting to heat up. It made the self-inflicted welts on her body sting. Still she made no move to tend to herself.

That bastard meant to kill her. Kill us both.

Tatsuki's head came up slowly. Her eyes were dangerous slits now, and her pulse throbbed the way it did right before a match. Any tears were the result of indescribable rage.

It's time I did something about this. I've avoided the problem long enough. But it would be stupid to try and talk to Ichigo directly. He'll just clam up like he always does about bad topics. His only strategy is to beat up the things responsible, so that you didn't have to worry about them anymore. More like he doesn't have to think about it. Arrogant ass. No, talking to the source of the problem was useless. Better to ask someone who actually understood this stuff.

And she knew just who that someone might be.

* * *

><p>Nanao Ise sat atop a giant mushroom seemingly without a care in the world, sipping tea.<p>

She placed her cup back on the saucer floating nearby and resumed leafing idly through the pages of a well-worn book. An enormous black sword was buried point-first in the lush red sward beside her. Daffodils and dandelions the size of elm trees rose on all sides, eclipsing the glowing blue sun in the yellow sky high overhead. A ladybug of proportions equivalent to a Volkswagen beetle alighted on a blade of grass. It bore a curiously cute skull mask whose jaws opened, allowing it to munch on its perch contentedly.

The sorceress paid none of these unusual happenings any mind. Thin, nimble fingers pushed a stray hank of hair back over one ear before moving to turn the page. She seemed absorbed in the contents of her reading material.

Behind her, Ichigo Kurosaki rose with a bloody rock clenched in his fist.

This event apparently was not worthy of Nanao's attention either. She just flipped a page without looking up.

Meanwhile her assailant seemed hesitant. When no cataclysmic incidents occurred, he seemingly reconsidered dashing her brains out with the rock. Hungry eyes flickered over to fasten upon the giant butcher knife sitting close by. He gazed imploringly at his purloined weapon, fingers itching to seize hold and regain what was taken from him. Brown eyes darted rapidly between Zangetsu and the shinigami engaged in her leisure activities. It was so temptingly close. He need only stretch out a hand to touch it…

To his surprise, Ichigo found himself doing just that. _No_, he remonstrated himself. Don't do it! Be strong, Ichigo. Be strong! But despite these admonishments he could only stare in morbid fascination as his rebellious digits inched ever closer to the zanpakutō's handle.

A crackling noose wrapped around his throat, causing his head to snap upright. At the same time, a slight weight settled on his back. He froze in an outstretched position.

"Nugh?" Ichigo managed to grunt.

The giant ladybug left off munching for a few seconds to observe the scene of a black-clad librarian lying on the back of the teenage boy as though he were a lawn chair. She looked very comfortable, though her face bore a severe frown. A rope of lightning was clenched in one fist, the other end serving to collar her disobedient student.

"What did I say about using weapons?" Nanao demanded crossly.

Her noose loosened a bit, allowing him to gasp back, "No using weapons."

"So what is that I spy clutched in your sweaty grip?"

"Uhh…" The bloodied rock dropped to the ground with a thunk. Too late.

"Is this a test of demon magic, or pugilistic savagery?"

The electric rope squeezed his windpipe again before he could speak, and Ichigo cursed to himself. His fingers were scarcely an inch away from retrieving Zangetsu. After that he could blow through this wacky wonderland with ease. Put himself on an equal footing with this demanding mistress of pain for a change. Instead of blundering along behind her, having to listen to her endlessly repeat…

"Failed."

Her weight disappeared from his spine along with the constrictive cord. Ichigo came about just in time to see his teacher settle adroitly on the ground before pivoting to regard him.

"_Disorobu," _Nanao incanted. The environment wavered before finally melting away altogether, leaving them standing in a psychedelic mass of colors. Kurosaki could have sworn the big ladybug waved goodbye at him before blinking out, as if to say, 'See you next time, loser!' No way to tell if that was just his imagination or another example of the lady's bizarre training methods. It was all a head game with Nanao. She wasn't trying to pump his spirit power or increase his speed like most of the training he had experienced in his tenure as a substitute shinigami. This was more like the internal conflict when first overcoming his inner Hollow. It required reserves of fortitude and self-realization far more draining than simply locking swords with an opponent.

Which was precisely what he needed. Unfortunately, rather like his Vaizard training, Ichigo had no idea what he was doing and found himself getting absolutely nowhere.

Demon magic is hard.

"Time for your punishment."

Ichigo flinched as he registered her declaration. A second later her finger reached out and flicked him on the forehead hard enough to sting for a bit and little more. That was it. Though it shamed him to admit, this was seriously the part that rankled him the most. Because it wasn't just himself getting the worst of it. He swore Nanao's own disappointment was palpable every time she hit him. Like his failure to get this stuff to work properly reflected poorly on her as well.

And he didn't like that. Nanao was cold and no-nonsense most of the time, but he had come to depend on her to an extent. No way to tell if she might feel the same. Maybe the fact that she hadn't given up on him in over five months of trying could serve as an indication. She was loyal to anything or anyone she set her mind to. That sort of determination inspired him, especially since it was clear he represented the most challenging teaching assignment Nanao had ever come across. She never belittled him, or even expressed exasperation with his minimal progress. Instead she recognized this was not something that was mastered in a day, a month, or even a year. It was rather nice to have that kind of teacher for a change.

Realizing this, he found himself saying something obvious. "Thank you."

Nanao paused in her dismantling of the environment. She turned back to him with fingers still glowing eerily. The light shone off her glasses in a distinctly unnerving fashion. She gave him an appraising glance, then tilted up her eyeware in a knowing fashion. "I'm glad to be of help."

Ichigo sat down and withdrew an energy bar from his pocket. There was nothing beneath him that he could see. Prior experience let him know the ground still existed even if he couldn't perceive it. He watched Nanao continue the reclamation process for a while. This underground training facility bore no resemblance to the place he remembered. Having achieved some of the most profound and useful accomplishments of his brief death god tenure in exactly similar environments, it had felt rather comforting to find himself in that bleak landscape once more. Like coming home to an old friend, even. Lots of pain, lots of memories. Still, it had worked out in the end.

His teacher did not share an appreciation for 'Death Valley', as she called it. Nanao took one look at the Vaizard's underground training hall and declared, "This won't do."

From then on, the barren rock and looming mesas he had come to associate with training were never seen again. Instead the former shinigami lieutenant instigated a series of 'renovations' designed to create a locale more suited for the development of demon magic. According to Nanao, monotony and sterility were death to those of magical temperament. Kidō required imagination, seeking out different responses to a wealth of conflicting choices.

Of course she used a literative analogy. According to Ise, physical combat was like a children's book. Few characters, simple plot, little need for creativity. You try to chop them. They try to chop you. One person left standing. Or bleeding. Apparently Tiger division had a game suspiciously along those lines. But that was beside the point. Now, demon magic was a twelve-book novel set: multiple storylines encompassing a host of primary and supporting characters who achieve a variety of setbacks and triumphs while experiencing a broad array of emotions that resolve in ways which can inflame or infuriate the reader. According to Rukia, their old friend Renji often wound up 'enflamed' from his efforts to make spells work. He had laughed when she told him that.

Ichigo was not laughing now. No. In fact, he had bribed Rukia outrageously with rabbit-themed gear to ensure she never breathed a word about his progress to Renji. A man had his pride, after all.

The point of all this was that the underground training room had experienced a facelift. Apparently the complex wasn't simply beneath the earth as he had always assumed, but axially misaligned to this dimensional strata to a minute degree. Nanao's words, not his. What that meant was this place had never truly existed as a part of the human realm, and had been crafted thanks to the efforts of the Vaizard under the guidance of Yoruichi and Urahara. It was actually a separate pocket dimension. Apparently that sort of thing was possible, but required a tremendous amount of power. And even then the results were pretty crude, unless you were dipping into reserves so vast you could afford to be creative. Which was probably why his old comrades hadn't felt the need to doll this place up after fashioning it in the first place. Why expend the energy if you were just going to blow it away in training?

Nanao saw a need. And she had whipped out some pretty esoteric shinigami lore regarding the structuring of unearthly realms. Probably ransacked from their Spirit Library before she vacated Soul Society. Apparently once the environment was started off, you didn't have to be a captain-level to influence control over its arrangement. Nanao referred to it as a cosmetic alteration, not affecting the underpinnings which settled this place. Basically she could manipulate their little schoolhouse like Play-Doh to take on whatever appearance was needed.

Never had Ichigo walked in here to find the environment looking the same way twice. The magical architect dipped into her own labyrinthine reading resources to present him with settings derived from history texts, medical journals, science fiction, and mythology. Once he had found himself reduced to gnat-size within the magnified intestines of an Indian elephant. Then there was the time Nanao dropped him into the Seige of Antioch. And who could forget his magical exploration of the underwater Ryūgū Kingdom? Wherever he went, there were puzzles requiring solving and Hollow enemies decked out in thematically appropriate illusions. Being attacked by a giant intestinal fluke was somehow even more unnerving than the Hollow he knew lurked under its skin. But according to his teacher, this was all part of the development process. It was kind of like a video game, really. He had to figure out the layout of his environment, what to rely on and how to best use his skills to his advantage.

For Nanao, the 'characters' in these stories she prepared were not Ichigo and his opponents, but more the spells he was expected to employ. After the necessary teaching preamble (which always involved slideshows for some reason), his hands-on practice would begin. He had been taught the basic applications that underlay each new spell. The incantations were memorized. It was like schoolwork. Homework. He could use any of the spells taught to him so far during the lessons. Provided he could remember them, or think of them in time. Shunpō remained an option, but the zanpakutō was off-limits. Which severely limited his power. But as had been drilled into his head of late, power was not the objective. Control and recognition of the options available; those were what he desired.

I need control. I need resources _he _can't manage. Because of what he is. Intellect and learning don't fly with him. He's just the sword, in the end. I need a set of skills he doesn't understand how to control. Because that's the first step towards breaking free. Separating myself from him.

I think.

"Why are you doing this, Ichigo-san?"

Broken out of his introspections, Ichigo looked up to find Nanao had ceased her efforts. She stood with her back turned to him, gazing at the flowing mass of colors that surrounded them like a surrealist painting. He almost began to doubt she had even spoken when the willowy shinigami shifted slightly. It was apparent by her stance that she was awaiting an answer.

A sense of real discomfort left him clasping and unclasping his hands unconsciously while struggling to find his voice. Asking what she meant might be considered yet another failure. Her motivations were difficult to fathom at the best of times. To be perfectly honest, Ichigo didn't know the first thing about Nanao Ise. Not really. Most of his information came from secondhand sources despite their living and working together in close proximity for several months. She was a kidō master, obviously. Before the Autumn War she had been Kyōraku Shunsui's lieutenant until the Eighth squad captain was stripped of his powers.

A short while after the craziness ended Nanao simply showed up out of the blue in the human realm. She and his father left the house for a while, and when they came back Isshin declared that the shinigami lady would be his kidō instructor from that point on. It was almost a relief. Their own training together hadn't been going swimmingly. Despite having admitted that he was once the captain for the reclusive Kidō Corps in Soul Society, Kurosaki Isshin did not come to teaching naturally. The two of them wound up shouting at each other more often than not.

One did not shout at Nanao Ise. It would not have been wise. And Ichigo had been raised to treat women better than that. Why she was really here had never been brought up. It didn't seem like Nanao was spying on him on behalf of Soul Society, which was his first inclination. He certainly didn't feel comfortable enough to come straight out and ask. People had their own reasons for doing things.

While he was struggling to come to grips with all this, Nanao turned her head to fix him with a glance. "Forgive me. Perhaps what I should have asked was… what do you hope to gain from demon magic?"

Oh, okay. That actually helps. What I want is…

Uhhh… wait. Did Nanao know about his inner Hollow problem? It had never come up before. Had Soul Society ever been briefed on that? Sure, the captains knew about it, which didn't necessarily mean they shared that particular bit of info with anybody else. And Dad never really made it clear what he told her.

Well, maybe the ol' tried and true response is needed here. "I… want to get stronger," Ichigo declared as confidently as he could.

Nanao still didn't move.

Ichigo took a nibble of his granola bar. He chewed and swallowed, waiting nervously for a response. Couldn't they get back to memorizing embarrassing cantrips now? It would almost be a relief to…

"That's not it."

He paused mid-bite, not liking the way this was going.

Nanao looked back then. Her face was stern in an almost accusing manner. Like she knew he was holding back on her. "It might have been more credible had you told me this was to achieve a more equal relationship with Rukia. So that she wouldn't tease you anymore. Or that you wanted to show up Captain Abarai. And I certainly wouldn't have doubted if you were looking to make yourself a more suitable candidate in the eyes of Lord-Commander Kuchiki. All of these are reasonable explanations."

All of these were uncomfortably personal insights, actually. Enough to leave him wondering just how much of his life she was aware of. That last one even saw Ichigo's face going pale as he tried to decipher just what such a comment was supposed to mean. And to make matters worse, Nanao wasn't done.

"But get _stronger? _This is real life, boy, not some once-a-week meet-a-deadline manga. Real people have real goals which tend to focus around other people in their lives. At least the ones who are actually making an effort, that is. They want to please a parent. They want to catch someone's attention. They want to denigrate a rival. Even rescue someone. And nobody tries as hard as you do in a vacuum. Which is why I also wouldn't have believed you had your response been that you wanted to defeat Aizen. Because he is no longer around to serve as an immediate threat. You're strong enough already to handle anything else. So what is it that you don't think you can beat in your current state?"

He fidgeted restlessly. "Look, is this really important? I mean, I'm here, I'm doing this. Isn't that enough?"

Nanao turned to face him head-on. "Clearly not, otherwise you would be making some progress. Instead all I see before me is a miserable failure."

There was a level of scorn in her voice he had never heard before, and that made Ichigo sit up straight. He felt his face surge hot with anger. "Hey, that's not…!"

Ichigo never got to complete that sentence.

From out of nowhere a huge white rabbit reared up behind Nanao and dove down towards her with bloodstained buck-toothed mouth wide.

She didn't run. Nor did she cast a spell, or even raise Zangetsu to defend herself. Instead Nanao simply looked at him while she was about to be decapitated, and her eyes seemed to say…

_You just going to sit there, hero?_

His zanpakutō was not at hand. For just an instant the memory of Fishbone-D charging at him while he stood weaponless so long ago returned, along with an image of Rukia flinging herself between them. Her instinct had been to defend. And his was to…

Weeks of training saw his arm whipping out, middle and index fingers extending. Ichigo heard his own voice almost unrecognizable with anger roaring, "BYAKURAI!"

The bolt of white energy that shot forth was a ragged, jagged serpent; nothing like the straight and clean beam he remembered emerging from Byakuya Kuchiki's manicured fingertips to effortlessly penetrate his shoulder. It arced near Nanao so close he felt certain it must have struck her. Instead the crackling energy curved over her shoulder and took the attacking Hollow right in its big buck teeth as though drawn by a lightning rod.

For just an instant its skull was surrounded by a nimbus of glowing particles. Then the whole thing burst, dissolving even as it did. Ichigo stared fixedly at the spot his enemy had previously occupied.

"Excellent."

Nanao stepped past him, brushing nimble fingers through the lank fall of hair that draped her brow. A pen was back in hand as she diligently wrote down on her pad. "A simple attack spell that could be utilized without full incantation. Small range so any chance of hitting the target was lessened, but also unlikely of damaging your ally. Very well done, Ichigo-san."

He still couldn't look away. Had all that really been a part of his decision-making? It felt as easy to him as swinging a shinai in kendō club. Might there actually be some progress showing through after six long months?

When he turned around it was to find her regarding him expectantly. Dazed, the bewildered youth found himself blurting out without his control, "I… have an inner Hollow."

Nanao threw him a penetrating look before giving a slow, deliberate nod. She did not speak.

This actually helped Ichigo to get out the rest. "Kisuke Urahara had my soul chain severed to try and reactivate my spiritual powers. But it took too long, and I nearly didn't make it. That's when the Hollow was born. It got stronger over time until finally it managed to take over for a while during my fight with Byakuya. I was so scared afterwards, and that's when the Vaizard got wind of me. They offered to train me. Things went pretty bad at first, just like here. But I managed to beat the Hollow. I thought I had it licked until Ulquiorra killed me in Hueco Mundo. The Hollow stepped up to keep us both alive. It's been laying low since then, but now it's trying something new. And I don't know what's left for me to do except… try to get my hands on skills it doesn't know, so that the next time it comes to take over I'll have a bigger back of tricks."

It was easier to talk than he had ever believed. Before he knew it the whole story was out. In truncated form, at least. He hadn't mentioned how the Hollow reacted to Rukia, or the way it had shown him an image of killing Nanao herself. Maybe those bits could just come out later.

Assuming there was a later. Assuming she didn't up and leave as a result of learning all this.

Nanao didn't respond at first. She looked pensive, with a fist pressed to her chin and brow furrowed in deep thought. "This might be precisely what you need in that case," she spoke in low tones. "The core of demon magic is controlling one's spirit; it's about mastering oneself to as fine a degree as possible. That sort of focus contradicts the mania of Hollows. They lack restraint. Calm, controlled choice from a library of spells goes against their very nature."

He listened while moving to collect Zangetsu. The blade did not speak to him when he took hold. Still, it made him feel good to have his soul cutter back. He hefted the great weapon up before him, examining its outlines and thinking about what she had said. "So what would you estimate my odds of winning are?"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nanao look away. That told him everything he needed before she even spoke. "Inner Hollows have occurred in the past. As you can imagine, the result was never pretty. There are no recorded cases of anyone succeeding in… removing the infestation. I don't know how to advise you."

The delicate-seeming woman then swiveled back to him. "But I do know how to train you. And if anyone could manage to find a viable solution for winning, it's you, Ichigo-san. You have a knack for coming out against impossible odds. So I will continue to aid you until a solution can be found. And I hope to see you standing as proud as you do right now."

His reflection in the blade glared back reproachfully. "That would be something."

She drew closer to assure him. "You have every reason to be proud of yourself."

"Yeah?"

He spun and grabbed her wrist, bringing a startled Nanao back around to face him.

They stared at one another. Like this, he could clearly perceive the streaks of blood on her cheek she had tried to wipe away.

"Dammit," Ichigo growled. "I hit you. My spell hit you and you healed it so I wouldn't see."

Nanao pulled away from him. "It could have been worse," she declared. Her tone made it seem as if she dared him to dispute this claim. Their gazes remained locked together in a duel. "You still have a lot to learn."

"Like not hitting the instructor?" he groused half-jokingly.

One eyebrow rose in mild reproof. "That would be preferable." She beckoned off to the side. With Nanao in the lead they started to walk together towards the exit. "Captain Abarai blew off one of his teacher's ears during his training."

Ichigo looked at her askance. "Seriously?"

"Oh, yes. And that's not the worst of it. You should have seen the mess that resulted from trying to teach Lieutenant Kusajishi kidō. The beds of the Fourth Division were crammed to capacity for nearly a week."

His footsteps slowed as an image popped into his head: a panicked mob fleeing from the little pink-haired cherub as she skipped joyously down a street while shooting lightning and fire in all directions. A snort of laughter blew from his nose. "That bad, huh?"

"No, she was phenomenal," Nanao threw over her shoulder. "She just enjoyed it too much."

His magic tutor sauntered off, leaving Ichigo puzzling over whether the Dragon Lady had just told a joke or not.

* * *

><p>Ganju Shiba rolled off his pallet with a groan. In the dark he rose and shambled across the tiny room that had been his home for the past month. A digital clock sent a magnified red image of the current time across his ceiling. It was now 5:45 in the morning. Most residents of this city would still be slumbering peacefully abed. Some people might consider being required to rise at such an ungodly hour as unfit work conditions.<p>

Clearly those people were unused to being woken at half past 3 by a foot colliding with your ribs.

Ganju envied those people. Lucky stiffs.

Speaking of lucky, this new gig of his was a sweet deal. When his older sister had called Ganju into her chamber to inform him of his unplanned expedition to the human world, at first he suspected a trap. Since when did Nee-san assign him vacations? Because clearly that was what this sounded like. His suspicions leaned toward yet another horrific _omiai_, an arranged date with a 'suitable candidate' for the first son of the Shiba clan. The last such disaster had left him wishing he had been born a commoner. Such treasonous thoughts might have earned him a cruel reprimand simply for thinking them. Kukaku sometimes seemed capable of reading his mind.

His new boss was a saint by comparison. Kuchiki Rukia actually accorded him respect as her employee. Why couldn't he have had a sister like her? Outside of the hours spent as an employee of the Usagi Shoten, he had virtually no supervision. Considering his existence as a spiritual being residing undercover in an alien environment, one might believe there would be little in the way of recreation. Not like he had a lot of friends here willing to pal around and kick back.

But really, what did that matter now? Here he could expect a minimum of privacy in his own quarters. Here a man could pick his nose to his heart's content without worrying about getting a beating and a lecture about decorum. Here a man could ogle as many of the nudie magazines that seemed to abound in this plane as he could afford and not be slapped silly. Here a man could leave his dirty clothes lying around without worrying about coming home to find them burning in a pile on the front lawn. Here a man could _live. _Without the ever-present fear of an unpredictable and violent sister delivering merciless thrashings under the guise of training.

Here, on Earth, Ganju had finally found heaven.

As he opened the door to stumble down the hallway, Ganju passed a bleary-eyed Kon on his way out of the bathroom. The two of them exchanged identical grunts of greeting, it still being far too early to engage in anything resembling civilized conversation. The last son of the Shiba then proceeded to occupy the wash closet until he was fit for duty. A quick change of clothes, some last-minute trimming of nose hairs (in case any suitable ladies stopped by, you never know), and ten minutes later saw him downstairs helping the mod soul open up shop.

Ganju flung open the front door. He inhaled deeply of the fresh morning air.

What felt like an elbow took him right in the gut. The next thing he knew, he was on his knees wheezing and gasping painfully.

"'Bout damn time you opened up!" Tatsuki groused as she strode by her crumpled victim. "I've been waiting out there for almost half an hour!"

Yup. Feels like home to me.

Arisawa spared him not a glance, passing the shelves stocked with all manner of trinkets and foodstuffs, pausing only long enough to remove her running shoes before stepping up onto the area behind the shop proper. Now where to start?

"Hey, Tatsuki-chan!"

Kon came hopping down the hall toward her tugging on a t-shirt. He seemed to be having a hard time finding the hole for his head, and this allowed her to get a good look at the almost painfully perfect physique some shortsighted god had seen fit to bestow on him. Tatsuki inspected those washboard abs with a grudging admiration. It actually made his perversions a little more bearable for some reason. Did that make her shallow?

The show ended when he finally pulled his head through and came to a stop before her. "What brings you by? Out for a run?" He indicated the jogging suit she had on.

"No." The girl stood stock-still regarding him. Something in her face must have told him a bit about what was going on. Feeling uncomfortably naked for some reason, Tatsuki added, "I've been up for a while. Jogging seemed a good way to kill time. I was waiting for you guys to wake up." She shifted restlessly, not liking the way he was looking at her now. "I need to talk to Rukia."

"Oh. Uh, well… sure." He seemed about to turn away, then hesitated. "Are you okay?"

I'm angry enough to kill somebody, actually.

To her relief right at that moment a tiny dark-haired head peeked around Kon's long legs. Ururu Tsumugiya regarded her with half-closed eyes, rubbing the back of one hand against them. The child did not speak, only glanced up at Kon questioningly.

"S'okay, Tatsuki's just paying us a visit. No reason to get uptight." The mod soul patted his tiny coworker's head a little warily, like she was a cat that might claw him without warning.

Ururu turned back to watching Tatsuki. Her sad little eyes blinked and ducked towards the floor. "You shouldn't hurt anyone while you're here," she whispered suddenly.

Her statement sent a chill up Tatsuki's spine. It seemed this child had picked up on her mood a lot more clearly than Kon. The realization served to dampen that nervous animosity she had been experiencing. Actually, being threatened like this was almost a relief. It left her feeling somewhat grateful.

"Thanks, Ururu-chan," she smiled tiredly. "I needed that."

Kon didn't seem to know what to make of this. It was Ururu who dropped a little curtsy, almost doll-like in her pajamas. "The mistress is giving lessons now. I'll let her know you're here."

"Lead the way." Tatsuki made it a declaration in spite of there having been no such invitation given. Ururu threw another glance at Kon, who hesitated before slowly nodding his head in permission. Without further ado the somber golem padded back down the hall with Arisawa following close behind.

After a minute spent traversing the darkened corridors they came to a door. No lights burned within. All the same, her guide rapped on the frame.

"_Tenchou, _you have a visitor. Miss Arisawa."

There was no response. At least, nothing audible. For a moment only a faint glow infused the paper screen before subsiding. This sort of thing might have raised a few eyebrows only a year ago. Now Tatsuki was finding herself grown more accustomed to the occult intruding upon her daily life. This, at least, could be categorized as friendly.

Ururu slid the portal open. "You can go inside," she murmured without meeting her eyes, looking very timid and small. The impression couldn't be farther from the truth. Karin had told her a few stories about what this seeming child could accomplish. It was nothing short of freaky. With a grunt of thanks, Tatsuki entered the chamber, which now glowed with a cheerful orange light coming from a single paper lamp on the floor. The door closed behind her.

As it did, Rukia Kuchiki looked up from the Go board across from her and smiled. "Welcome, Tatsuki-san."

"Hey. Sorry to pop in on you so early. I need to…"

"If you're gonna talk, make your move first, _ba-san."_

Tatsuki glanced up in surprise even as her hostess demurely lowered her own gaze to the board. Overhead, a brown-skinned boy merely chewed his thumbnail while swinging by his heels from a beam. Messy black hair waved back and forth, while gray eyes flicked restlessly from his relative back to the game.

"Rudeness won't improve your position, Noboru," Rukia chided without raising her head. "And come down from there. Greet our guest properly."

"Hmph." Moments later the kid dropped down to join them. He paced back and forth, arms crossed over his chest. It reminded her of a monkey at the zoo. "Morning," the kid threw offhandedly in her general direction.

His rudeness made her previous wrath experience a resurgence. Tatsuki hadn't known what to make of this obstreperous child since day one. Clearly he belonged to the same supernatural lifestyle that his guardian herself came from. The revelation that he was her cousin came as little surprise despite there being no family resemblance to speak of. She knew Rukia was adopted, as well as being royalty. Tatsuki had never met any of Rukia's family. Supposedly she had a brother, but beyond that the Kuchiki were unknown to her. They could all be brown-skinned Bohemians with no manners and bad attitudes. But she kind of doubted that. Nothing made any sense, but that hardly had anything to do with her purpose in being here.

She had apparently intruded upon a hard-fought game of Go. Judging by an amateur perspective, it appeared the brat had backed himself into a corner. But this game supposedly hinged upon long-term strategy. For all she knew the whole arrangement of black and white tiles hid a clever trap that would only become clear at the proper application of a single play. The whole thing was entirely too convoluted for her tastes. Give me a straightforward match and the feel of fists smacking any day.

"The game can wait." Rukia turned away while still on her knees to regard their guest. "Please have a seat, my friend. It's much too early for this to be a social visit. How can I help you?"

"You can tell me what's happening with Ichigo."

Maybe she was being rude just coming to the point like this. But dancing around the issue didn't suit her nature. And this was a matter of life and death unless she was seriously mistaken. Besides, Rukia hardly seemed offended. More like… pensive. Disturbed. Maybe frightened?

"Noboru," the young shopkeeper spoke. "Will you leave us for a moment?"

Her restless ward looked absurdly disappointed, so maybe his position in the game was more favorable than she had estimated. Like he was on the cusp of victory which her intrusion had abruptly delayed. Still he voiced no disapproval; merely moved in to give Rukia a quick hug before racing from the room.

There were times Tatsuki almost forgot that Rukia was a great deal older than her, much less not a mortal of flesh and blood. But even spirits obviously had their share of earthly virtues. Her relationship with Noboru served to make this abundantly clear. She was like an aunt to him in a way, a favorite aunt who had clearly been entrusted with the child's care. The fact that he looked only a few years her junior did nothing to make the relationship awkward. In fact, considering Rukia's tendency to keep distant from forming permanent relationships in this world, it was almost a relief to see her harboring uninhibited affection for someone. It made her seem more… human.

Of course, her relationship with a certain not-so-ordinary mortal was precisely the reason behind their meeting.

Once Noboru had left, Rukia wasted no time. "Before we begin, will you confide in me what brought this on?"

Tatsuki sat down across from her, feeling a little ridiculous in her jogging togs in front of the dignified young woman clad in her kimono. Yet even this was not enough to prevent her from continuing. She was nothing if not determined. "For the past few months, I've been having dreams. Really awful ones. And not just me. Orihime too, though she claims to not remember them. Maybe it's true, maybe she just doesn't want to remember. What counts is that in all of them there's this… creature that looks exactly like Ichigo. It never really does anything. Just follows us, always getting closer every time. And I don't think this is just a case of nerves or dreams. It's real. And getting stronger. So can you tell me what it is?"

"A Hollow."

Tatsuki blinked, surprised. She hadn't expected Rukia to be just as direct as her. But seeing the calm, almost fierce look on her hostess' face with hands clasped in her lap, it served to accentuate the difference between their ages again. And this reminded her about one more of Rukia's roles: that of a shinigami. A warrior, a fighter who faced monsters on a regular basis. It made karate matches seem absurdly immature by comparison.

Rukia's gaze was sharp now, seeming to spear her with its intensity. "There is a Hollow growing within Ichigo. It has been for nearly two years now. What I didn't know was that it had begun to influence the people around him. I am involved in these matters on a personal and professional level. So I take what you are telling me very seriously. As should you. Please tell me everything unusual that you can lay claim to knowing, no matter how small."

The words came spilling out with an intensity that bordered on obsession. Lately she had been thinking of little else, such that her schoolwork and matches had suffered. Only now would it become clear if that had all been to some good end. In no time at all Tatsuki had unburdened herself of a fear that had been slowly taking root in her mind for several months.

"You're taking this pretty well," she finally concluded. "Are you telling me that one of those things that feed on us is… growing inside of Ichigo?"

"Yes," Rukia nodded. She looked so infuriatingly calm. Like this was no big deal. Shouldn't she act at least a bit worried? I mean, Rukia and Ichigo were… well, they were dating, weren't they?

Weren't they?

"So… what are you going to do?"

Maybe she shouldn't have said it that way. It sounded accusing. Like Rukia had been slacking on the job. But Tatsuki's nerves were worn thin. Most people her age weren't required to deal with something of this nature. You should be able to go to someone when you were feeling threatened. Like law enforcement. And death gods were the spiritual police. Why shouldn't she turn to the local shinigami?

For a time Rukia stared at her. Or maybe through her. Like she wasn't even there. When she spoke next her voice sounded distant. "I would like to free him. But this is not any sort of regular Hollow. It's _his _Hollow, a reflection of his soul. It can't be purified in the regular fashion. Research is being done on this. But until a solution can be devised, we can only try to restrain the beast. And for a time I have been content to keep it with that. Only now, something new is happening." Her eyes flicked over to the door through which Noboru had left. "And I wonder if it is not connected to other matters."

"I mean what are _we _supposed to do?" Tatsuki demanded, not caring how she sounded. "Ghosts were bad enough, now it's _dream _ghosts. What should I tell Orihime the next time Freddy Krueger comes around snickering and trying to kill her? I mean have _you _been seeing this thing too when you sleep, or is it just us? Can we fight it, can we _kill_ it? Would that hurt Ichigo? What… how are we supposed… to…?"

I'm trembling, Tatsuki realized. And I feel like I might start crying at any second. Crap! I shouldn't have to worry about being murdered in my sleep at my age… or any age for that matter! A year ago I thought I could protect myself if someone came after me, but that was just humans! Ichigo asked me to look after his sister, but who's going to look after me? And Orihime, too…

Seeing her so visibly distraught, Rukia reached over and squeezed the teen's hand. "I will protect you, Tatsuki-san. As will Ichigo, and Ishida, and…"

Of a sudden Rukia stopped. She glanced down, frowning. Tatsuki flinched as her grip closed more firmly.

"What?"

Rukia's callused fingers roamed across her skin. "There is something here," she murmured. "On your arm. I can feel it now. Like a fragment of a spell, or something unnatural. I can't get a good sense of it. The whole thing is so very faint."

She brought her other hand up and passed it over Tatsuki's forearm. Her fingers glowed a soft blue light. They left a trail in their wake, and something rose off the teen's skin into this turquoise plasma, like dust particles floating in a beam of sunlight. They coagulated together to form a sphere shape that reminded Tatsuki of a colony of microscopic organisms she had seen in science lab once. Rukia then crooked her wrist and an orange rectangle made of light emerged from the palm of her hand. She slipped her catch into it. The box sank back down into her, taking the spell fragments with it. Tatsuki remained entranced by this procedure. Even after all this time, magic was still pretty cool to watch.

Rukia stood up, and she followed suit. "You're welcome to stay while I confer with my colleagues. Can I offer you some breakfast while you wait? Ganju is quite adept at cooking, as it turns out."

"Nah, I think I'd better get home before anybody notices. Thanks, though, Rukia-san." She paused, feeling like more should be said. "Seriously… thank you. For listening, if nothing else. I feel better."

"You're welcome." Now it was Rukia who seemed to hesitate before speaking. "Tatsuki-san… about Ichigo…"

"Yeah, I know. We shouldn't tell him about this or he might start stressing out and brooding over it like usual." She stopped and stretched her arms overhead as high as she could, standing on tiptoe as she did. It felt good. Like a wealth of tension had dissipated sometime in the last five minutes.

"Actually, I believe he should know what is happening."

The young black-belt brought her arms down in surprise. "Really?"

"Forewarned is forearmed." Rukia led her from the room back towards the shop proper. "It wouldn't do for him to be caught unawares at a crucial moment. Now we can try to formulate a strategy to deal with this new menace."

Tatsuki snorted. "He'll just go tearing off to beat it up, watch and see. It's his fallback. The guy has the mindset of a juvenile delinquent to match his face."

"I happen to like that about him." Rukia cocked a grin back over her shoulder. "If nothing else, I feel mature by comparison."

That earned her a laugh, even if there was a sort of frantic edge to it. Tatsuki had to remind herself that her existence did not truly revolve around deadly peril and bloodthirsty monsters. Even Rukia had more than just that, and she was already dead, for pity's sake. I can certainly say as much while I'm still living. There was still plenty to enjoy in each day, and even look forward to. They had all their lives ahead of them. As long as they didn't lose sight of that, things might just turn out okay.

The two girls proceeded down the hall, chatting about normal everyday things now. When he was sure they were gone, Noboru Kouki dropped from his hiding place in the ceiling.

That conversation had been very enlightening. He knew something was up. And no matter what Aunt Rukia thought, he was not about to simply languish in this earthly shell while matters involving him were decided by Yoruichi or whoever was in charge. She had trained him to deal with any problems himself. It was his nature. True, his encounter with the Wild Hunt had not been what one might call a smashing success. Still, whoever had been behind that attack was still out there. They hadn't resurfaced since that opening move against him, but this might be their latest gambit. If so, he wasn't about to let them just disappear again.

He would follow this evil to its source and confirm for himself if it had anything to do with the attempt on his life. And judging by what he had just learned, he might have an ally unbeknownst even to themselves. Which meant he had better start keeping a close eye on the Arisawa girl in case things turned nasty.

At the very least, she had great legs, so his time wouldn't be completely wasted. Always look on the bright side, he thought with satisfaction. Best advice Mom ever gave him.

* * *

><p>"… take the time to retract… sorry, <em>reflect<em> on how our country is changing. You, the next generation, have a very… um, rare op-p-portunity. So… make sure you don't waste your potential! Take pride in yourself, and let your actions reflect that ride… pride. A valorous spirit can overcome any obstacle. Like the changing seasons, as surely as the falling sakura blossoms do… herald… who wrote this, anyway? What? Council on Education? Pfft! Bunch of old fuddy-duddies. Are these really my glasses?"

As two teachers proceeded to argue in hushed voices with their distracted principal, a red head slumped against Michiru Ogawa's shoulder, snoring softly. Her back stiffened in suspense.

"Chizuru-chan!" she whispered anxiously. "You're dozing off again!"

No answer. Her attempts to covertly dislodge this burden met with as little success as usual. The small bob-haired girl turned a pleading look on the teenager sitting to the other side of Chizuru Honshō, but to no avail. Mahana Natsui's attention was riveted to the head of the gymnasium, although it seemed there might be the faintest trace of smugness to the smile on her lips. Like she was glad not to have to deal with the matter of Chizuru herself. Maybe it was just Michiru's imagination.

Drastic times call for drastic measures. Taking a slow, deep breath, she elbowed Chizuru firmly in the ribs.

"Mmph!" her sleepy schoolmate grumbled irritably and shook her head as she righted herself. "Sorry," the girl adjusted her glasses with a yawn. "I can't help it. His voice is putting me to sleep. This is the most boring… assembly… they've ever… he-ssnnnrrrxxx…"

The last sentence dissolved into a gentle burbling snore. The next thing she knew her clingy admirer had collapsed headfirst in Michiru's lap.

Embarrassment, thy name is Honshō.

It was bad enough when the outspoken lesbian casually offered to massage her breasts to help them grow, or suggested the two of them share a session in a photo kiosk together. There was no malice behind it. Unlike a lot of the girls at school, Chizuru was a pretty decent sort. She championed Michiru whenever her less savory classmates tried to target her for their cruel sport. Actually, Chizuru might have been one of her favorite people, were she not horny as hell and queer as toenails on a snake. Not bad, not really. Just… weird. Very, very weird.

"I just think the students should be enjoying themselves a little more than this! Are you sure these are my glasses? My grandson once switched mine out with his, and I thought I was going blind for three days! Let me tell you, it was a relief to find out I was wrong. Of course that was only after I ran over the neighbor's dog. Stupid thing finally stopped barking. Who just mentioned retirement?"

A few snickers sounded through the hall. She knew exactly what they were thinking, but the old man's blunder did nothing to improve her own position. Attempting to dislodge that sleeping deadweight met with no success. Michiru glanced down in exasperation. Well, if I can't get her off, at least don't let anybody notice anything.

As she was thinking this, something flew out of Chizuru's head.

Were she not so utterly embarrassed at this moment, Michiru might have screamed. Or jumped out of her skin. Even fainting dead away would have been a perfectly reasonable response to an occurrence like this. As it was she felt so red-faced humiliated at her current situation that she did none of these things. Only stared as the thing fluttered before her face.

It's a moth, she thought at first. There were wings. Like smoke or ash bound together. And a round body within which burned a small blue glow. The moth, or whatever it was, seemed to notice that it had become the target of someone's attention. With a certain jerky desperation it bobbed towards a window.

Michiru wasn't what one might call brave by any stretch of the imagination. It therefore came as quite a surprise when she found herself reaching up towards the winged entity as it tried to escape. Should I really be…? Before she could even complete that thought her small fingers cupped around the gray floater, trapping it in her palms like she used to do when catching fireflies.

Mahana was looking at her strangely now. For a moment it felt like a dream. Did I fall asleep? Am I imagining this?

Then a gentle tickling started in her palms, and the anxious teen let out a startled yelp.

Chizuru awoke and snapped upright, nearly colliding with Michiru's hands. Fortunately her arms swept high overhead on instinct. Unfortunately this position only served to draw even more attention to her. The normally unassuming girl found herself to be the focus of attention for practically everyone in the hall, from their senile principal on down.

"Young lady, are you trying to do the Wave? That reminds me, I haven't been to a Tigers game in ages! Anyone want to join me?"

The principal peered owlishly at her over his spectacles, and once more Michiru feared fainting on the spot. Chizuru and Mahana were staring at her as well. Eyes wide, almost ready to lapse into tears, with a supreme effort she managed to gasp out, "K… _Kanonji!"_

All confusion left her friends' faces. They glanced at one another, exchanging brief nods. Without warning Chizuru leapt to stand beside her. "Michiru-san, what's wrong? Oh, you poor thing! Are your stomach cramps coming back?" she proclaimed loudly.

What? Stomach cramps? Bewildered, Michiru stared at her.

"What's going on here?" a hostile voice demanded. Looking over she felt a fresh surge of dread when she saw the musculature phys-ed teacher Kagine striding towards them. His lips were pressed together in a grim frown and veins pulsed in his overdeveloped physique.

Mahana placed an arm around her shoulders comfortingly as the teacher came to confront them. "Sorry, sir. She's been feeling ill lately. I think we should take her home."

"That's not for you to decide," the bulky jock declared authoritatively. "If she's not feeling well, I'll escort her to the nurse's office. There's no need for you two to leave the auditorium as well." His meaty hand flicked out in dismissal of the pair while hostile beady eyes fixated on Michiru, causing actual stomach pains to blossom in her midsection. Everyone trying to help her out was only making things more awful.

"OH! Let me, I'll take her!"

As if on cue, Misato Ochi came bounding forth. Michiru fervently prayed for some passing deity to turn her into a caterpillar without avail as their own homeroom teacher drew up beside them. The woman looked positively puny compared to the bulky Kagine, but she interposed herself between him and her students with indefatigable confidence all the same.

"Me, I'll take care of it! Outside of gym class they're my responsibility anyway, Kagi-chin. So don't worry about anything!" The skinny woman then thrust a thumbs-up in the big man's face while flashing a joyous smile. There might as well have been a banner over her head reading, 'Leave it to Ochi!'

It would seem his fellow educator's determination did not impress Kagine, however. He crossed his arms over pecs like seat cushions and glowered down his nose at her. "Ochi-sensei, you shouldn't let three students skip out on assembly over one girl's stomachache! Not to overstep my bounds, but I cannot condone such a serious breach of protocol as…!"

"I'll go with them."

Everyone now turned their heads as a tall, willowy girl stood up a few rows down. Kunieda Ryō snapped shut the small book she held and surveyed the proceedings with a bland sort of condemnation, as if their tomfoolery had interrupted some very important reading.

"Would that be all right?"

The deadpan track star asked the question like she didn't care one way or another what the answer might be. For a few moments everything in the gymnasium was silent.

Then Kagine gave a short harrumph through his nostrils. "Well… if Ryō tags along, I suppose there shouldn't be any cause for concern." He glanced at the other three girls. "You can go."

Without a moment of hesitation Mahana and Chizuru hoisted Michiru between them and proceeded to carry the tiny waif down the aisle with both hands still clasped before her. Almost like they were police officers and she a collared criminal in cuffs. Good thing too, because she had been about to demand if Kagine was out of his flipping _mind!_ Three students leaving was a 'serious breach of protocol', but make Kunieda the fourth and suddenly everything's hunky-dory? The teachers always did that. Deferring to their star pupil. It was like a rule.

"All right everyone, the matter's been resolved," the principal bellowed unnecessarily loud into his microphone. "Nothing to worry about, Ryō is taking care of it. Everyone back to your seats and we'll perform attendance… what? When? Was I here for that?"

Seriously, did Ryō secretly run this school or something?

The girl in question fell into step behind them, while Ochi-sensei quickly slid into the lead. "Where are Tatsuki and Inoue?" the chipper educator demanded. "And the boys. They should come too. Never mind, they couldn't all fit in my car anyway. I'll shoot them a text to come by later. And mustn't forget Karin-chan or her guardian."

She was muttering to herself while tapping furiously with her thumbs on a smart phone. Sensei certainly didn't seem concerned by all the odd looks they were getting. Not to mention completely uninterested in what had prompted this episode to begin with. Not so the person responsible for their abrupt dismissal. Michiru felt every eye on her, such that she wanted to just crawl into bed and forget this day ever happened. Wasn't anybody even going to ask her what this was about?

While she thought this, the source of her troubles jumped and twitched between her palms, exactly like a captured moth. It made a tiny crying noise, however, which confirmed what she had initially suspected. This was something supernatural. Maybe even dangerous. And in situations like this, you turned to the people who knew that area best. I just hope they're taking me to Rukia's place and not…

"There, that's taken care of." Misato Ochi finished typing and pocketed the device as the doors to the auditorium closed behind them. She cast a look back at her followers and beamed like they were a merry troupe off to engage in good wholesome fun. "Now then, everyone out to the parking lot. We're having a meeting at my place!"

The teacher then swept out an arm to point triumphantly ahead and proclaim, _"Meeting at my place, boys and girls!"_ before resuming her unscheduled jaunt.

No one questioned her decision. Maybe this is what being in a gang feels like, Michiru pondered glumly. Arguing wouldn't work when Sensei got this way. She was like a cruise missile. No deterring her. All you could do was hang on and hope the devastation wasn't too bad.

Now reduced to little more than a living insect jar, the girl allowed herself to be carried away.

* * *

><p><em>Gin?<em>

_Yo!_

_I think we've got a problem._

_Like what?_

_One of my spells just became active._

_That's three in two days. They must be getting braver. Or more desperate. Good news for us either way._

_No, not good news! Something's wrong about this one! It hasn't joined the rest of the collective yet. It's been almost half an hour already, and it's still not showing up on my display._

_It wasn't destroyed, like the one last night?_

_Give me a little credit… Gin… I think somebody caught the Harvester. And if they know who it came out of, they might start to look at the others too. That could ruin everything._

_Maybe not. Three guesses as to who got a hold of the critter. And if our slaphappy friends poke their big noses in, then the mess blows up in their faces, not ours. We're not to blame._

_But we still don't know who's behind the Harvesters. There hasn't been enough of the aggregated spells to give us a fix! At the rate we're going, it would take at least another week! I told you we should have made the tracking stronger._

_Any stronger and they might have noticed. _

_Whatever. I'm getting to the bottom of this._

_Don't stick your neck out, Rangiku. I mean it. If one of those bastards takes a shot at you like Nanao did, I'm going to kill them this time. I don't care who it is._

_But I might. So keep a low profile, lover. If Soul Society does get wind of me, I'll just find a way to lead them right to the real enemy's door. Watch and see._

_Will I need to put a leash on you from now on?_

_Hey… that's not a bad idea! Thanks, Moonbeam! Bye now!_

_RANGI-!_

* * *

><p><em>'We are all trapped down here. Starving. Like rats.'<em>

In the small cave she had reserved for her private use, Lagrima dipped the polished sliver of bone she used for a pen into the inkwell on her stone table. A tiny blue flame hovering over her shoulder shed the faintest of light, enough to see the yellowed pages of skin in the tome. The letters danced as the lamp flickered. Like insects working over the paper. She would have eaten them if that were true.

Devotion, duty, conviction. I must be strong.

_'Reading used to fill something in me. His Holiness permitted it, since it gave me more stories to tell Him. I changed things that would have met with His displeasure, of course. I know much of human history as a result. _

_Once, half a century past, fighters from the nation of Japan were ordered to defend an island. To the death, as it were. With no food or water, they hid in caves much like the ones we inhabit now. For months they remained trapped there. Slowly perishing from hunger. _

_I remember. Their souls were rich with despair when we ate them. It taught me much. I never imagined I would find myself in the same predicament, though. Yet here I am. This world, which had been our home, our refuge, has now become our cage. In more ways than one.'_

She began to write again. Her private thoughts._ 'Stories guided me to my master. Ancient myths that whispered to me of His existence. I was adjuchas, and strong, so I let myself be drawn by the legends. To the dead zone of Hueco Mundo. When after years of searching I finally came before Him, the legends brought to life, I knew at last I had found God. His Holiness raised me up into His army, and I served in whatever capacity and whatever submission He required of me. There was no need to question my existence from then on. He made us more than the beasts we had been. We were soldiers. Generals. Executioners. Pillars of His order. We were His angelic host. _

_Until the Jackal came. _

_That is how His Holiness referred to the infernal shinigami, when He spoke to us beyond the hearing of the sycophants who draped themselves around that pretender. He told us we would eventually rise up, and He would tear the Jackal's throat out with His own fingers. Late at night He used to tell me about His plans. How He would whip the fallen Jackal naked across the dunes, listening to him whimper and beg. When He tired of his sport, He would cut off his ears and gouge out his eyes with His thumbs, then leave his corpse there in the desert to be eaten by the Hunt._

_I believed Him when He told us that. And I did not permit myself to doubt that glorious day would happen. Perhaps I would not be alive to see it. When the Jackal's damnable Hyena made me break and betray my king, I realized that my strength would not be worthy of helping our God regain His throne. Yet still I resolved to be of whatever good I might be as a result. I was never able to admit it to Him. Too ashamed of my failure. There was no need anyway. He knew. I could see in the way He looked at me. At all of us, really. We were once his most valued servants, but no longer. I only resolved to obey Him should He ever call upon me. He knows my failings. How could He not? He is our God. _

_So why, then, am I afraid?'_

She dipped the sharpened pick into the cup of blood and continued.

_'Perhaps it is because I have been asked to shepherd this humbled army when I know that I am unworthy. They mean nothing to me. If the matter were left to my decision, I would abandon them. And if they could, they would waylay me in some dark tunnel and rip me to pieces. I can feel it when I pass by. The threat of Berrinholtz keeps the more dangerous ones from rebelling, but that sort of thing only goes so far. And he is not to be trusted more than any other Hollow. The Sombras allow us to remain hidden, but how long can this last? How long until something goes wrong?_

_Mighty Barragan, why do You ask this of me, when I have already transgressed against You? Is this a sign of Your favor? Do You grant me an opportunity to atone for my sin against You? If I could only hear You speak my name like You used to, even once more, or feel Your hand upon me, I would…'_

"Lagrima."

A shadow fell across her door, and she looked up. From the darkness a face peered out from its broken mask. "We got another one," the Hollow informed her.

Duty called. Rising, Lagrima snuffed out the light and took her leave of that place. Outside, she passed Berrinholtz standing guard. As she slipped down the corridor he fell into step behind her, his massive body like a wall filling this corridor.

The unmasked Hollow, whose name she did not deign to recall, trailed in their wake. Unlike Lagrima, this one had been touched by the mark of the Jackal. In His Holiness' day, a Hollow who dared to become _arrancar _was considered pariah and dealt with accordingly. Now Hueco Mundo was fairly infested with their lot. During the Jackal's reign, even their God had been defiled in such a way, forced to wear a face and form reserved for their natural prey.

Lagrima was one of those who retained her purity, at least outwardly. As an _adjuchas _she was uncommonly tall and thin but still formed along the lines of a human. The Hollow hole proudly displayed in her midsection served to set her apart from such vermin. Her hair was white silk that grew from beneath the unadorned mask she still sported with a trace of pride. This bone helm possessed no facial features save for a pair of eye holes. A line of beauty marks trailed up its middle. A small harp made of bone was slung across her back. She wore a simple gray slip that left her arms bare, with a silver chain wound around. That had been the sign of her servitude. As a female, His Holiness did not wish her flesh to be marred by a brand as with His other warriors. She was more pleasing to Him that way.

Bare feet ghosted over stone that had been polished by the tread of her brethren. As she passed, two Hollows charged with sweeping the corridors made way for her. Lagrima noted with distaste the small pile of sand they had collected. The granules seemed to make their way in here no matter how far from the entrance they might be. Only a short distance over their heads, separated by a roof of stone, the great desert of Hueco Mundo shifted sluggishly in eternal dreaming. Sand slipped from the ceiling in thin streams that could not be allowed to collect. Where His Holiness walked now there must be no trace of the dry stuff, for His benefit. She was nothing if not considerate of His needs.

The wide corridor ended at a great cavern gouged from the bedrock. Though darkness accompanied them practically everywhere underground, here a faint light was permitted to be kindled. Small groups of Hollows huddled together, discussing among themselves. They eyed her intently when she emerged from the shaft. Lagrima could feel the hate in their stares. The blame for their being entombed down here was hers to bear when the master was not present. She made an easy target to their hunger-maddened minds.

When Berrinholtz lumbered out of the corridor, though, the packs hastily dispersed to the nearest exits. Though the boreholes were wide and high in deference to His Holiness, it sometimes seemed as if even this was not to accommodate Berrinholtz. A Huge Hollow before becoming _adjuchas, _hehad not lost much size from the transformation. His snout was a bear's skull missing its lower jaw, with high pointed ears and black sockets that gaped threateningly at everything within vision. Aquamarine stripes painted his frame as well as his claws. The midsection of his body resembled a black sphere which held that colossal form together. Otherwise he was armored like a crab. Small spikes protruded in rows all around the outer shell, and his paws were more like oversized pistons tipped with long curved claws. The same was true for his feet. Berrinholtz projected an aura of brutal power that was only emphasized by a marked silence. He communicated in brief grunts and snarls, a fitting testimony to his bestial nature. Rumors to the effect of him having been one of the potential _Espada _were not taken lightly.

Their path took them out of the meeting chamber and wound through this underground ant colony for several minutes. The layout of the terrain was something Lagrima had memorized long before. She needed no light to guide her. A faint clacking grew louder with every step. When they finally came to their destination, the source of that noise was obvious. At this intersection of several tunnels countless dream catchers hung from the ceiling, their frames made from the dead wood of Hueco Mundo. The latticework comprising their inner webs was actually Lagrima's hair wound into webs. Her assured steps took her to the place where the only glow in this dismal underworld could be found.

As she approached a plaintive whimpering reached her ears. Snared in one of the dream catchers was a tiny winged creature that looked to be comprised of smoke. A blue light sparkled at its center. These sendings were the only things permitted to enter or leave the catacombs. Reaching up, the Hollow leader retrieved her catch. She knelt before a porcelain chalice placed on the floor before proceeding to crush the imp overhead. It popped with a muffled whimper, allowing its bounty to flow out between her fingers in a thin blue liquid. There was precious little of this substance, and so Lagrima exercised great care that none of it should go to waste. She used the bone pen from before to scrape every last drop off her fingers. When this was complete, the ghostly maiden picked up the cup and rose to proceed unerringly down another mineshaft.

Several minutes later their journey ended in a long room that looked like a crypt. She knew what would be found here without having to see it. Twice as wide as the regular tunnels, this one was lined with sarcophagi in which were displayed the lingering remnants of Mighty Barragan's conquests. A shattered mask here, a broken sword spirit there, a reliquary of bones carved with the mark of the archers; the room was a trophy house of the dead and fallen. In the wall at the very back of this ossuary stood a pair of tall black candle stands. The tallow candles within them were black as pitch, in contrast to the tiny white cinders which throbbed atop their wicks. These paltry specks served to generate just enough light to make out the sepulcher housed between them.

On that polished recess there lay what appeared to be a corpse covered in a funeral shroud. It did not stir at their approach. This meant nothing. Having repeated this procedure dozens of times now, Lagrima knelt and held aloft the cup. She murmured a brief prayer, then brought it to the dead lips covered by cloth and poured the ichor down.

When the dish was empty, a faint sigh echoed through that chamber, whispering all around them like a restless breeze seeking release. It stirred the dusty remains with the force of a dying man's last breath.

From that dry throat, a single word croaked out with painful effort.

_More, _it whispered, so faint as to be naught but an echo.

Lagrima rose. "Soon," she promised it. "Do not strain yourself. I must speak with His Holiness."

The viceroy of the Hollow nation turned her back on that pitiful figure. She refused to admit how the sight of it filled her with dread. It showed just how far their species had fallen. Lagrima hated coming here, but no one else could be trusted with this duty. One that held a strange sort of hope even as it taunted her with the reality of their situation. As she stole away, the _adjuchas _cursed herself. That blasted form stretched out on its deathbed should by all rights be allowed to die. But their king commanded otherwise. Now she must report on her progress to Him.

When they came to a stone door with a great skull emblazoned upon it Lagrima slipped inside without bothering to look at her companions. Berrinholtz had already taken up his position before the portal as she swung it shut, becoming an impassable obstacle in the process.

Lagrima now picked her way across the largest cavern in this underground colony. The entire sum of her forces could have fit into this room with ease. Sometimes they did, to pay their respects. There was nothing to be seen here save for several sconces of blue flame that glowed along the walls.

At the center of this chamber lay their only means of holy communion with God.

Any uninitiated would see nothing special at all; merely a pit dug into the floor and lined with bone. The depths of this crater could not be guessed, filled as it was with a dark red opaque substance that could only be blood. The pool of crimson fluid lay in perfect stillness. Not even a ripple disturbed its tranquility. As she approached, Lagrima unslung her harp. Upon reaching the basin's edge she knelt and proceeded to pluck a single string. The note echoed sweetly in the confines of this room.

In response, the tide of blood frothed and churned, until from its center there arose a sight of unspeakable majesty. A gigantic human skull the size of a boulder emerged, sporting a crown and held aloft by one titanic bony arm. This ghastly apparition was composed entirely of blood made solid by the dread power of the being who now turned his living eyes upon her.

Blood poured down his effigy as Barragan Luisenbarn, King of Hueco Mundo, addressed his servant. **"Speak, then."**

Only an image, then. Apparently he would not be joining them today. Striving to hide her regret Lagrima hastened to obey. "My Lord, our outpost remains undisturbed. Several new additions to our ranks have been welcomed, and Your army continues to grow. The enemy remains based in the remains of Las Noches, where we have them under surveillance. As per Your wish, we have accelerated our retrieval of effluvia, and his condition continues to improve with every passing day. There is no indication that we have been discovered. Our endeavors have drawn no attention at this time. They are too busy searching for whatever pockets of rebels have managed to remain loose."

"**You continue to please Us, little one," **the vasto lorde rasped, blood sliding through his teeth. **"We are aware of the perilous situation you find yourself in. It is a testament to your valor that you have contrived to succeed in your mission up to this point."**

She bowed humbly in acknowledgement of this praise. "It is nothing, Lord. I live or die at Your behest. Ask of me anything and it shall be done."

Inwardly Lagrima hoped for some kernel of information as to how long she might be expected to labor under this responsibility. Or even a hint as to when their master would rejoin them fully as he had promised so often before. More could not be hoped for. But to request such reassurances would be a sign that her faith was weakening. He must not be given proof of how truly fragile she felt.

"**And what of the renegade?"**

A moment's hesitation only before proceeding. "There has been no contact with Grimmjow Jeaguerjaques. He continues to elude our efforts at capture. We lost communication with one of our hunting parties two days past, after my previous report. I instructed the remainder to converge upon their last known location, but they have reported nothing back."

The looming skull rose a little higher on its perch. **"In this you have failed Us? To have one who was openly loyal to Our enemy roaming with impunity about Our lands is an affront to Our order! The errant former **_**Sexta **_**must be brought to bay, his strength yoked and added to your ranks. In this We will tolerate no failure! Unleash the Hunt if you must, but see to his retrieval!"**

This touched upon another point of contention, one Lagrima was far more willing to broach. "Mighty Barragan," she spoke softly, raising herself just a bit off the ground. "I am loath to rely upon the half-breed. Whatever its state now, it was still once a shinigami. Our natural enemy! How can we trust such a one to shepherd the Wild Hunt? Surely a more worthy hand could be found to oversee your greatest weapon."

The giant head stared at her in silence for a while. In this deathly stillness she recognized could very well be her last few moments of existence. His Holiness had killed for far less serious affront than questioning his commands.

Then the bloody dullahan slowly began to sink back into the scarlet froth from which it sprang. When those unblinking eyes reached the surface of the pool, his voice emerged, seemingly without need to speak.

"**Do not come before Us again without word of success. It will not go well for you."**

"It shall be done, sire," she gasped back, feeling like a fist was squeezing the words from her throat. Lagrima watched her lord and master disappear back into his fount. Both hands were shaking as she draped the harp over her shoulder. Death seemed to loom overhead no matter where she went. The only question was whose hand would be the one to deal it.

When she stepped out of the sanctum, her eye fell upon the lowly _arrancar _from before still lurking outside. Might as well put this little lurker to good use. "You, Tezima," she crooked a finger, remembering the name at last. "Come here."

The maimed Hollow stole over to crouch in readiness before her. "Yes?"

"Contact all hunting parties at once," she declared in a coldly imperious manner. "Tell them they are to abandon any and all cover. Their top priority is the apprehension of Jeaguerjaques. No matter the cost, he is to be brought before me. Is that understood?"

"It shall be done."

It nettled her to hear the very words she had recently spoken being parroted back. Before she could think to question Tezima, the little sneak sped swiftly down the darkened halls.

Feeling more troubled than ever, Lagrima took her leave of that place. Berrinholtz trailed behind like a shadow of pain still to come. Would he be the one to execute her should His Holiness order it?

Devotion, duty, conviction.

They would be the death of her.

* * *

><p>"C'mon, Michiru, spread 'em, gimme a peak!"<p>

"I can't let you see it, Chizuru-chan! Please stop asking me!"

Sounds like business as usual, Tatsuki thought darkly as she slipped off her shoes in the foyer. Now given a valid excuse to dish out some pain, she rolled her neck to ease any kinks before declaring, "I'm gonna break something permanent this time if she doesn't lay off."

"Oh, don't worry, Tatsuki-chan," Orihime smiled while removing her own footwear. "Now that we're here I'm sure Chizuru will be all over me, so Michiru can finally get a break!"

"Imagine my relief," the spiky-haired fighter offered with all the cynicism of her years. Both friends then made their way down the hall until they came upon the living room, site of today's meeting.

"Hello, girls!" Ochi Misato called out upon catching sight of them. "Welcome to our little shindig! Feel free to help yourselves to the snacks, there's plenty more where that came from." She indicated the spread on a coffee table, consisting of several types of crackers, a variety of cheeses, olives, Italian prosciutto, and cucumber slices.

Orihime clapped her hands in delight and wasted no time in whipping up a concoction on her plate that looked largely inedible. While she joined the other girls in chatting merrily, Tatsuki moved to stand by their nominal hostess. "You're pretty free with the fare, considering this isn't your house."

Misato just grinned from ear-to-ear like a civil service Cheshire Cat. "Oh, it's adorable how you kids think you're all grown up. Don't worry about Darling, that man is putty in my hands! He can't say no when it comes to me!" And she sashayed off towards the kitchen.

"I'm pretty sure that's all he _ever_ says to you," Tatsuki called after her. As usual, their twenty-something teacher was immune to anything that did not correlate with her definition of common sense.

Tatsuki envied that blissful ease with which the older woman ghosted through life. It didn't concern her at all that they were trespassing unlawfully in the home of a very unfriendly pillar of the community. This happened to be the house that their classmate Uryū called home. But while the Quincy youth might grudgingly grant them entry, his father Ryūken Ishida, who actually owned the place, had expressly banned them from meeting here like this. In fact, he installed a security system for the sole purpose of keeping his ardent admirer Misato Ochi from getting in. Not that this proved to be any deterrent. Owing to some bizarre stalker-mind powers, she always guessed what the code to disable the alarm might be, no matter how many times he changed it. Thus the Ishida household was the de facto headquarters of what they unofficially referred to as 'The Karakura Otherworldly Paranormal Society', or KOPS.

It wasn't a bad deal, really. Whenever something mysterious happened to them (which thankfully wasn't often), Ochi-sensei would notify the members of their group, which consisted of everyone who had hunkered out together during the war between Soul Society and the Hollows. Although Orihime technically arrived after all the fireworks were over, she was welcomed into their ranks nonetheless. It was kind of like a non-academic club. Chad never attended the meetings for reasons which she found perfectly understandable. The band was just a convenient excuse. And while she sometimes questioned why, in the end Arisawa usually found herself tagging along. Just to find out what was going on.

Which reminds me. "So," she called out after snagging a handful of dried fruit. The elder Ishida could always be counted on to have healthful snacks in accordance with his medical profession. "What's up with this meeting, anyway?"

"We don't know," Mahana Natsui smiled where she reclined on the couch. "All we do know is that Michiru caught something coming out of Chizuru's head." She held out her cup as if that last statement was perfectly natural. "Hey! Can I get a refill over here?"

"Coming right up!" Into the room came Keigo Asano, still wearing his school uniform and contriving not to look miserable. As usual he had been wrangled into serving all the girls in what came close to the definition of a slave. His amoral friend Mizuiro Kojima was close behind bearing a platter of finger sandwiches he no doubt had one of his girlfriends whip up. If anyone ever pointed out to him that he was toeing the line between gigolo and victim of child abuse, the delicate-seeming kid would probably just grin in that unconcerned way of his and make up a quite convincing lie on the spot. Blame slid off him as easily as it was drawn to Keigo. Kind of a Yin/Yang thing going there. Or maybe just Abbot & Costello. They were all technically cutting class. Mizuiro probably tendered a convincing lie to get him and Asano out.

Whatever the case, while they were busily attending to the demands of their female cohorts, Tatsuki took the time to examine Michiru. The most timid member of their group, Ohgawa hardly ever initiated conversations, though she resented being left out. It was her nature to tag along despite clearly having little idea what was going on. Her spiritual perceptions were the lowest among them, far below any of the rest. She could hardly make out ghosts at all. Only strong ones showed up on her radar. So how was it that she, out of all of them, had seemingly gotten hold of something truly beyond the pale?

While still flushed from having Chizuru continue to try and latch onto her like an octopus, Orihime Inoue turned in her seat to regard Michiru with surprise. "Michiru-chan caught something? Where is it, I want to see! Is it bigger than a breadbox? Does it have a name yet? I can think of a few! Let's see, how about…"

"Hold on." Tatsuki stood up and crossed over to join them. "Did I hear right in that nobody else has seen this thing yet?" She then noticed something about the way Michiru was sitting, even more tucked in on herself than usual. Realization hit hard. "Are you _still _holding onto this thing, whatever it is?"

Ohgawa gazed at her miserably. "I can't open my hands, or it'll fly away. I'm getting really tired." Her face was just as distraught as her voice.

Kunieda Ryō looked over from where she was inspecting the doctor's bookshelf. "Shouldn't Dr. Quincy, Medicine Man, have something lying around to contain things like this? That is his job, after all."

"I just finished getting Darling up to speed," Misato announced as she came strolling back into the room. "He said we can stay as long as we want, and to ask Uryū-kun to help out when he gets free from handicrafts club. Oh, but don't worry, he's not our only avenue of expertise in this area."

"Oh, no." Kunieda groaned.

This allowed Tatsuki to pick up on the meaning as well. Her heart sank at the prospect. "Ochi-sensei, please… tell me you didn't invite…!"

"CHILDREN, BE OF GOOD CHEER! YOUR CHAMPION HAS ARRIVED!"

Flamboyant. Loud. Overwhelming. Whacky. Words that could easily describe carnival season in Brazil. Or one loudmouthed, out-of-touch, deluded Japanese television personality.

Don Kanonji was in the house.

"I come bearing gifts!" their unwitting club mascot and sponsor proclaimed as though it were some great feat. Black-garbed men and women sporting shades and earpieces followed him into the den, carrying take-out food from some pretty expensive-looking restaurants judging by their bags. In no time the hired goons had set out a mouth-watering repast that made their previous fare look like dog food. They departed like shadows soon after, leaving their employer in the center of the room gazing proudly upon his self-appointed friends and comrades.

Kanonji was dressed in a purple cloak with a puffy orange collar that virtually swallowed his neck. His belt was made of crystal balls linked together, and his open-collared sequin shirt displayed a number of gold and wooden talismans clattering against his chest. The pant cuffs flared over black and white platform shoes that made him even taller than usual. On his head there perched a beanie that had leather tassels hanging from its rim to mix with his already prominent dreadlocks. His moustache was freshly waxed, his spirit stick was twirling triumphantly in one hand, and he was already reduced to tears. It was the most ludicrous thing you could ever imagine.

"Whatever the danger, no matter the odds, the Visionary Vizier of the New Age shall not forsake his followers!" The goofy adult fell into a pose that was supposedly designed to lift their spirits. It looked like something from a bodybuilding competition, and served more to strike terror into their hearts. "My occult senses warned me that trouble might be brewing today, and my horoscope proved it! 'Watch out for blondes!' That's what it said! And now we see…"

He hopped up on one leg with an arm arched overhead. "…the source…" his upraised fingers started to wiggle, "of that…" Without warning Don Kanonji thrust his stick out, pointing straight at Michiru. "… _PRIMO-NI-SHAN_!"

Orihime clapped excitedly at his performance. Meanwhile the target of this pronouncement flinched back. "What? I'm not… I'm not blonde, I'm brunette!" Michiru exclaimed indignantly, looking around at her classmates for support.

"Don't you have a television show to be filming?" Tatsuki accused in the hopes of piercing the armor of his self-conceit.

"Please relax, Kanonji-san," Misato came up to him with a plate of food. "Have some of the eel, it's superb!"

"Ah, Lady Ishida!" the goofball went down on one knee as if he was proposing to her. "Thank you for informing me of this development! Tell me, is your husband well?"

"He's dynamite," she supplied without missing a beat. Somehow Kanonji had gotten it into his head that Misato and Ryūken were married. The idea hadn't been dislodged by any evidence to the contrary.

"I see we're not all here yet!" The television star popped some fried eel into his mouth and looked around at them. "Where is my #1 Pupil's sister? She shouldn't be left out of such momentous proceedings."

"You don't even know why we're here." Tatsuki was starting to feel like she had just completed a particularly grueling death match with a school of kickboxers. If her life kept on its current course she was going to be sporting gray hairs by the time she was twenty. "And Karin-chan will be here after school lets out, which was …" she checked her smart phone, "ten minutes ago. I don't think she'd complain if we started without her."

"Okay then," their teacher declared. "Let's begin."

Ten seconds later found them all standing around Michiru, who had never looked more harmless, harried, and helpless. Maybe that was her defense mechanism. It made people want to protect the trembling teen.

"So how do we go about this?" Kunieda asked as they all inspected Michiru's clasped hands. "Is it still in there, Michiru?"

"I can feel it tickling," the girl mumbled as a blush worked up her cheeks from being the center of attention. After that they were all off.

"Can we stick it in a bottle?"

"Kanonji-san, what if we put it inside one of those crystal balls on your belt? Isn't that what they're for?"

"The saleslady told me it brought out the color of my eyes! Which was impressive since I was wearing shades at the time. Her powers were beyond my ken…"

"If it's a bug, we should stick it on a pin. Like a butterfly collection! My cousin has one of those. It's creepy… forget I mentioned it."

"Can those of us with powers actually do something here?"

"Oh, hold on! I have an idea!" That was Orihime now. So saying she reached up to touch the hairpins at her temples. "_Santen Kesshun, _I reject." As she spoke her ornaments glowed, only to split into three distinct streaks of light. A brief glimpse of the cheerful trio of faeries at their cores was replaced as they metamorphosed further into boomerang-shaped objects which then took up position around Michiru's clasped fists. Moments later an orange dome of energy sprang up to envelop that spot.

"There," Orihime pronounced with satisfaction. "You can take your hands away now, Michiru-chan."

Hesitantly the girl moved her cupped fingers apart. She flinched as if they had gone stiff before finally pulling them loose with a grateful sigh to collapse back onto the couch.

Hanging before them now, within the spell dome, there was revealed something that resembled a black bat. It fluttered back and forth against its prison in futile attempts to break free. Orihime's familiars kept it confined within that small space.

"Amazing, Orihime!" Misato complimented her. She then peered a little closer. "What is it, anyway? Some kind of bug? Does that mean Chizuru-chan has lice?"

"Hmmm! There is more to this than meets the eye!" Don Kanonji lifted up his glasses and frowned at their captive prey. He raised his other hand to pass it over and around the dome as though he were a gypsy fortuneteller and this his crystal ball. "I can sense the supernatural element in it more strongly now than before! It reeks of… BAD MAGI-CU!"

Kunieda adjusted her own spectacles like she was examining very fine typeprint. "Well, at least now we can get a good look at this thing."

"Good job, my love!" Chizuru stated affectionately. So saying she casually reached over and groped Orihime's butt.

The beautiful redhead's eyes flew wide and she let out a squeak. As her concentration broke the dome simply vanished. Without hesitation the smoke bat took to flight. Everyone started yelling and dove for it all at once, the end result being that they slammed into one another and fell in a heap on the couch.

"_LEGGO, IT'S ESCAPING!"_

"_WHO'S STILL TOUCHING MY BUTT?!"_

"_MAGIC-U HAMMER-GAAH! MY EYE!"_

"Get off me, Mizuiro."

"Heh. Sorry. But isn't this fun?"

Overhead the ash bat was capitalizing on their impromptu mosh pit to make its bid for freedom. A distortion appeared in the air overhead with a hazy darkness at its center. It was towards this which the flier aimed.

"I got it!"

Atop the pile of flailing arms and curses Keigo Asano struggled awkwardly to rise, planting his foot on Chizuru's rump and using both Tatsuki and Mahana's heads to leverage himself. Ignoring their outraged screams, with a burst of strength he launched upright and flung out a hand to grab hold of the bat.

As his fingers closed around the thing it squealed and burst. A blue vapor like smoke hung in the air for a moment before seeming to evaporate in the sunlight streaming through a window.

Asano stood stunned as the rest of their party finally managed to disentangle themselves. He turned to look down at them, a sickly smile on his face. "Ummm… heh-heh! It, uh… popped. See?" The fumbling youth showed them his empty hand, which still held a faint grayish residue and nothing more.

"You are so beyond _dead," _Tatsuki hissed as she found her feet.

"Well, this was a bust," Mahana drawled as she regained her seat, seemingly uninterested in how one of her classmates was stalking the shrieking Keigo around the room with the intention of mutilating him. Her face brightened. "But at least we got a free meal out of it!"

Ochi sighed while Don Kanonji helped her upright. "I was hoping for a little more. This supernatural element really sparks my interest. If only we could have learned something about it!"

"We may have indeed," Kanonji declared in an uncharacteristically subdued voice. They all looked at him with surprise, except for Tatsuki who was sitting atop the prostrate Keigo's back and using his legs to bend him into a submission position reminiscent of a pretzel. Their fancifully dressed comrade, however, only had eyes for Misato's hand he was holding.

"Kanonji-sama?" Orihime asked.

His face was troubled, but when he noticed them all looking at him he seemed to recover and drew himself upright, lifting the tails of his coat like a bat's wings.

"Be not alarmed, my friends! There is evil afoot, it is true, but remember you fight for justice! And your acclaimed champion will not allow you all to be besmirched by evil! For I have seen…" he whipped off his glasses and used them to point at them all, "a malign presence that hovers undetected in this room! The touchy-feely girl was not the only one among you who harbors a hidden terror. You are all infected by the same hideous infestation without your knowledge!"

"What, all of us?" Michiro asked blankly.

"YES! Well, actually, no. Not you." She scowled a little as he then turned to Mahana. "And not you. But the rest of you, YES! My otherworldly senses are screaming at me! Now that I have felt one of these things uninterrupted, I perceive that the same dark parasite lurks within each of you! A malingering malaise of the spirit has you in its grip! I can scent its noxious odor even now!"

The kids glanced at one another, uncertain how to take this. None of them looked very confident of his pronouncement. Misato sniffed under her arm experimentally, then made a face. "Well, I was in a rush to get to work today and might have forgotten my deodorant. But are you sure that's not just it? I certainly don't feel any different than usual."

"It is true." Kanonji rested his brow in one hand, seeming to slump where he stood. "Oh, where have I gone wrong? To think that my closest colleagues and defenders of the world order could have fallen under a villainous influence without my knowledge! Please accept my heartfelt apologies, my young friends." Tears fell to soak into the carpet, and his teeth were gritted against the apparent injustice of it all. "But KNOW THIS!" The psychic showman snapped erect, gaze locked on a point in the ceiling as though beseeching heaven while his emotional outpouring continued unabated. He looked much more determined than before. "I shall not allow this travesty to continue unopposed! I, Don Kanonji, your chosen guardian and sorcerer without peer, shall waste no time in expunging this dark fetor from your fair young forms! HOH!"

He snatched up his spirit stick where it had fallen and rounded on the group. Tatsuki did not like where this was going one bit. "Hey, stupid! Didn't Ishida-san warn you about using your dopey magic in his home? This has gone far enough, I'm calling Rukia! She, at least, might actually know something about what's going on by now. So just sit tight and…"

He didn't seem to have heard her, too engrossed in his preparations. "Oh-h-h-h-h-h!" Kanonji droned, sweeping his instrument slowly back and forth before their faces. "Oh-h-h-h-h-buddha-shinra-a-a-a." As the chanting continued a tiny pea of green light became to glow at the staff's tip. "Oh-h-h-h-h-h-sephi-rooooth-constantinopllllllle." 

"EVIL, BEGONE!" he roared. With that Kanonji slammed the butt of his staff on the floor. The green orb expanded out to encompass them all.

A host of screams sounded. And then the room was filled with bats.

Hundreds of them. All flapping and mewling, all burning with a tiny blue glow. They flew out of the startled teens and Ochi in a rush until the air was thick with them. Everyone was yelling and flailing their arms. Don Kanonji lost hold of his weapon, staggered backward and tripped on the hem of his long coat to fall over a chair.

Something happened at this point. The same distortion in the environment they had seen when the previous bat attempted to flee was now occurring again, only far more this time. It was like the individual vortices opening all at once were causing some kind of chain reaction. For just an instant everything in the room seemed to quiver to their eyes like a disturbed reflection in a pool of water.

With a gasp of indrawn air, the ceiling above them split in a long jagged tear, revealing a swirling morass of darkness. The ash bats streaked as one for this egress.

To their horror, the girls found themselves being lifted up off the floor, as though they were connected to these things by tethers of some kind. Tatsuki looked around her, too amazed to speak or cry out. She saw Kunieda and Chizuru floating close by. Keigo was clutching to Mizuiro and crying as they were drawn along. Misato simply wore a puzzled look, like she couldn't quite decide how to react to this.

"Tatsuki-chan!"

Whipping around she saw Orihime floating as well. Her arm was outstretched towards her, and instinctively she lunged forth. Their fingers twined around each other even as they were pulled towards the rent in space.

"_DON'T LET GO!" _she demanded, almost in tears.

Orihime nodded fiercely, face set in fixed resolve, and they were pulled into the dimensional distortion. It closed behind them with the sound of cloth tearing.

There was a rushing noise like water falling into a cataract. Even as they sped along there was no wind, only a terrible feeling of cold. Almost as if the surging mottled gray darkness which flowed past them was a river through which they were flowing. It seemed to go on forever to either side. Without warning a crazy laugh sounded, louder than anything they had heard yet and continuing without stop.

_**WHERE ARE YOU ALL GOINGOINGOING?!**_

The laughter suddenly grew distant, as though they had passed it by. A bright spot was blooming ahead in the black tunnel down which they fell. All six of them covered their eyes as this speck grew until it had filled the distortion completely. It felt like they were pressing against something, a yielding surface that tried to throw them back even as they sank deeper still. The experience brought with it explosions of pain in Tatsuki's skull, comparable to white-hot needles being driven into her sinuses. She shut her eyes and screamed as loud as she could in pain-wracked fury.

Then they were wrenched through with a disorienting jolt to collapse upon the ground.

For a while Tatsuki just lay there, feeling cold and shamed. She tried to take a deep breath, only to choke when it felt like there was nothing but dry sandpaper in her throat. Staggering up her lungs threatened to burst. Suddenly, like air being drained out of a balloon, the pressure eased. She could breathe again, but not cleanly. It took concentrated effort to gasp in and out, as though her body did not naturally know how to do something she had been born understanding. Or maybe it was the environment she found herself in. Her eyesight cleared, a condition she had not even noticed, and the girl looked up, dazed and confused, to survey their surroundings.

The first thing she noticed was Inoue. Her childhood friend stood a few paces off seemingly without any of the strain Tatsuki herself was experiencing. Long red hair whipped in an icy breeze, and her feet sank into the pale dunes.

Wait. Dunes?

Disbelieving, Tatsuki looked down to where her own hands were buried to the wrists in sand. White sand. It dawned on her that they were atop a hillock in the middle of a desert. When she gaped blearily around the sight of rolling dunes stretching off in every direction confirmed this. Formations of rock broke the monotony in some areas, as well as a few withered leafless trees. On the horizon there glowed an enormous gibbous moon which dominated the night sky spread out overhead. Stars twinkled down as if curious as to what they might be doing here.

"I'm back."

Orihime's voice recollected her as to their situation. Arisawa strove to stand up. Her legs were rubbery in the manner of having just run a marathon. Through sheer force of will she managed to stay upright, stumbling forward though it felt as if she might collapse at any moment. At last she reached the other girl's side. "Ori…hime?"

Sad eyes turned to regard her, filled with a bitter pain that numbed her more than this whole alien environment.

"I'm sorry, Tatsuki-chan," Orihime whispered. "This is Hueco Mundo."

* * *

><p>Slumped on the floor of its redoubt, the restless Hollow watched disinterestedly as the Wild Hunt fed.<p>

From atop the edge of this low ravine it could see the entire slaughterhouse film. A herd of Huge Hollows had wandered into their current territory, almost instantly becoming food for the grisly mob. Watching the cannibal pack pull down their fleeing prey, listening to the screams of the dying, it could almost forget its current situation. Aizen's flunky had left it shackled here to go and make nice with the other Vaizard. At times like this the Hollow almost regretted its newfound freedom. What good was being able to act independently of Ichigo if it couldn't even go more than a few steps in any direction?

The gleaming line wound about its ankle had been treated to prevent it from moving. Shit-Brains was a little peeved the last time it went off on its own, and now the cord was magicked so that the Hollow couldn't touch it. Damn thing just slipped through its grasp every time it tried to get a hold while still remaining firmly attached to its leg. One day that cowardly little turd was going to pay dearly for treating it this way.

The Hunt continued to devour its latest meal. Mad _Menos Grande_ jockeyed for position at the trough, tearing at one another in an attempt to reach a mess of spilled innards which comprised all that was left of formerly mighty Hollows. Mighty to some, at any rate. Those packmates not invited to this brunch roamed ceaselessly across the plains in search of anything that moved, their mindless shrieks almost seeming to take on a conversational tone. The Hollow wondered idly if they really could communicate with each other before losing all interest in the topic. Curiosity did not make up a part of its personality to any great extent.

I wonder how the Vaizard would react upon coming back to find the Wild Hunt all dead? Might be good for a laugh. It chuckled to itself.

A breeze blew over them.

The Hollow's head snapped up. It remained stone still for a moment, senses warily roaming about in search of whatever had disturbed it. Hardly daring to believe what the wind was telling it. Praying that it wasn't wrong.

When realization dawned, it scrambled upright, an unholy grin baring its black teeth to suck in the dry air of Hueco Mundo with a laugh.

"**Sunnavubitch! They're here! They're all HERE!"**

About to start forward in pursuit, it halted, pondering. Black eyes traveled down to the thin golden cord chaining it. A low growl escaped its lips. Without this, it could move freely to find them. But it would only have about half an hour. Maybe less. That much was clear from experience. After that the magic would wear off and it would be forced to return to Ichigo.

Well, who couldn't it kill in half an hour? So what if the King wasn't here to see it. Could just take the corpses along. To show him. He could watch for a change, while it fed off their remains.

Now how to get this thing off…?

As it pondered, a shadow fell over it. The Hollow looked up to find a member of the Wild Hunt gazing down, eyes glowing against the shadowy backdrop of its body.

"**Got something you want to say, head cheese?"**

Not a sound. Those tremendous jaws opened wide, however, and the Hollow readied for an imminent attack. Maybe this one was close to dying. That would explain its willingness to attack the Hollow.

With a grunt the _Menos _dove down, mouth opened to swallow it whole. Bracing itself, the Hollow was mildly surprised when the stupid thing slammed its face into the rock right beside it.

When the Hunt member rose from the rubble of its attack, a faint glimmer of gold sparkled between its teeth. It gave a snort, head twisting violently to one side, muscles standing out in its jaw as it bit down. A second later the golden thread snapped and fell to trail off into the distance, fading even as it did.

The Hollow looked down at its unencumbered leg, then back up at the _Menos _regarding it dully.

"**Thanks."**

It then leapt straight up into the air and delivered a kick to the masked chin. The giant Hollow's head came clean off to go sailing through the air and land a hundred yards away. Its headless body flopped lifelessly to the ground. Several other members of the Hunt seemed to take notice of this. They came stampeding over and without further ado fell upon the corpse of their former comrade. Its blood soon stained their jaws.

Only moments later Ichigo's Hollow was loping at top speed across the white dunes to find its prey.

Down in the ravine, Cernunnos lifted his head. He munched on a strip of bloodied flesh, slowly grinding the slippery mass back and forth across his heavy molars. Blood dripped from his antlers and ran down his mask. The sight of the Hollow escaping was not lost upon him. Its flight reflected briefly in his great yellow eyes.

Blowing a bloody grunt he then dipped his head back into the grisly morass of guts to get another mouthful.

_To be continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

"Jūshirō-sama, no! You mustn't…!"

"Actually, I must," he declared with a smile, before plunging his knife into luscious pink flesh.

A few seconds later, Jūshirō Ukitake had effectively seeded the watermelon. He took a few moments to chop it up into perfect cubes. Meanwhile the servant Rin danced from one foot to another behind him, as if worried he might slice off a finger. Her concern only brought a smile to his face. It was nice to still be venerated a little.

"There." He turned back to his head of household staff and presented a bowl filled with chopped fruits. "Work your magic with this, please. I'll see about cleaning up the mess. And no," he held up a hand to forestall her as she was about to protest, "There is no need to get one of the other girls. I said that you could all go home early today for the Halo unveiling, and I do not want to see anyone running late on my account."

The young woman's face softened. "You really are too kind, Jūshirō-sama."

"Kindness is an armor against life, as Shunsui wrote last week."

Her expression darkened immediately. "Yes, well… I am sure His Excellency has many wonderful attributes," she stated in a frosty tone. "But his talent with the pen does not fall into that category."

"Oh dear." He turned away and began wiping down the countertop to hide his smile. "Has he been sending you poetry again?"

"To call it such would be the greatest kindness." Rin selected some of the flavorful nuts and herbs from their larder, her voice rising in pitch to make sure she was heard. "I certainly hope His Excellency does not expect me to invest any time in reading such… _scribblings. _I have a nephew still learning his letters, so I am beset by all the atrocious grammar one can take."

Ukitake grinned happily as she continued with her invectives against his friend. Despite the loss of his shinigami powers, or perhaps as a result of them, life had never seemed quite so splendid. As minor nobility and a retired captain (an unheard of position before now), he was permitted to orchestrate his own day without consideration for anyone else. Of course, because of his nature, he couldn't simply throw inhibition to the wind and behave without any consideration for those around him.

Kyōraku already filled that position so very nicely.

It was almost like a dream come true. In less than half a year he had rediscovered the joys of simply living in Soul Society. Under the proper conditions, it truly could be considered a paradise for the spirit. His ancestral home in the Court of Pure Souls had not been obliterated like the rings of the Rukongai during the war. It was something of a relief to find that was so upon returning here. Though there had been precious little time to visit in the past two millennia, his heart had always been comforted by the thought that should he ever need to return, his first home would still be waiting for him.

Of course, it took some doing to identify all the new faces. Lesser spirits devoted to his family had passed away during his age-old tenure as captain of Division Thirteen. Their descendants as well as eager replacements were only too pleased to find the master of the mansion had returned home. Some even whispered that there might be time for him to marry and settle down, raise a family, all the usual priorities of the noble class.

Yes, he considered while attending to the cleaning, I really should give the matter some thought. But where to even begin? I am somewhat out of touch with the peerage after so long. And I certainly wouldn't want to feel as though I was visiting the market in search of a bride. These things must be contemplated with neither excessive urgency nor temperance. Why, if done properly, I might even be able to consider potential brides in terms of love. Why not? If Byakuya Kuchiki of all people could do it, then surely I…

"Pardon me, Jūshirō-sama. A visitor has arrived at the mansion."

He turned to find another servant girl attired in his household livery waiting at the door to the kitchen. Her name was… Hanabi. "Thank you, Hanabi." He snagged a towel to finish drying his hands. Excitement gripped him. A visitor? Perhaps it might even be an emissary from another family looking to initiate courtship. Wouldn't that be a bit of irony considering his previous line of thought? Mustn't keep them waiting, now.

Jūshirō breezed by his servant and practically skipped down the hall. He couldn't remember feeling so buoyant and, well, alive since his youth. Before the onset of the wasting sickness that all but crippled him in his later years. Now that ailment was completely gone, at the cost of his pride as a shinigami.

While thinking this he passed an open door, glancing inside involuntarily. Some of his lighthearted euphoria died a little. For there, resting on a stand in the room reserved for family heirlooms, was Sogyō no Kotowari, his former zanpakutō. The two blades were arranged in the mahogany stand on a shelf at waist height, their scabbards clean and new-made. Once these blades had represented the part of his soul that marked him as a death god, a living testimony of the power that had guarded their world for centuries. Now they were bereft of that vitality, even as he seemed to have gained it. This was a disquieting thought. Though no longer as fast or strong as a captain (or any shinigami for that matter), Jūshirō was able to exercise a greater degree of freedom in his choices and his activities than were ever available as the Taicho of Squad Thirteen.

All it cost was a part of his soul. It saddened him to think it. Are you still out there somewhere, Sogyō no Kotowari? Waiting for the next hand to take hold of your power? I pray they do you justice, as I could not.

"Rest in peace 'til then, old friend," he murmured on his way past.

A few more turns of the hallway, and the white-haired nobleman found himself in the courtyard. Further ahead at the gates to his manse a tall figure waited patiently with another servant. He recognized the visitor instantly, and once more his heart soared with joy.

"Komamura-san!" Jūshirō exclaimed in delight.

The fox-headed man turned and, upon sighting him, bowed solemnly. "Jūshirō-sama," he intoned in a grave manner. "It is an honor to be in your home."

"This is certainly a first." He approached his old comrade carefully, as if any sudden move might scare him away. "We haven't seen you outside in a while now. I'm pleased you accepted my invitation to drop by." There had been numerous attempts made to coax Komamura out of his self-imposed hiding, but why dwell on that? He was here now and that's what counted.

For his part the giant spirit did not seem overly enthusiastic about his visit. Saijin Komamura could never be called lighthearted in all the time Jūshirō had known him, but the events of the Autumn War had seemingly robbed him of any motivation beyond quietly punishing himself. His existence was now composed of isolation and self-reproach.

Well, time for that to change! "Come in, please, you're most welcome." Ukitake stood aside and gestured for his old comrade to proceed into the main house. "You look tired. Shunsui is here as well, he'll be glad for the extra company. The three of us haven't been together since… ah…"

The last time they met was when visiting Yamamoto's sickroom. Hardly any words were spoken. They simply stood around in that room listening to the sound of the machines which kept their crumbled Command-General breathing. Yamamoto never even woke up the whole time they were there. Still, it was not a wasted effort, paying respects to someone who had fought so hard to keep them all safe. One could almost forgive the old man for all he had done ostensibly in their names.

Jūshirō had long ago resolved to forgive his teacher and master. Just as soon as Yamamoto died.

Coming back to the present, Komamura merely plodded forth towards the house without saying a word. Anxiously the older spirit followed along behind, marshaling his servants and sending them on errands with only looks and gestures. They would have something prepared to greet their new guest soon enough, and their master would take care of him until then.

"I'll take you to see Shunsui. We're collaborating on a new publication for Seireitei Weekly." Jūshirō prattled happily as they walked down the corridors. He was as willing to fill the conversational gap as Saijin seemed to empty it. "It's going to be called 'Resting on Your Laurels'. Really they just want to let us know we're still appreciated. As it happens, some of them dropped hints that they would like to hear from you, Komamura-san."

"I have no facility with words," his hulking houseguest replied tersely.

They walked for a minute in silence. Now that he had some time to think about it, the white-haired lord was baffled by what might bring Komamura here. It must be something of pressing importance to draw him out of seclusion. Nanao had mentioned she was going to visit him when she stopped by last. He had been entirely too thrilled to see her at the time to give the matter much thought. Really, it almost seemed like losing his status as a shinigami had granted him the surplus of energy he had been missing for lo these many centuries. Like his body had been storing it all up, just wanting for him to take a breather so it could come roaring out.

Which brings us back to the current situation. Maybe Shunsui would have better luck getting him to open up? Speaking of which…

"Here we are." They came upon the quarters reserved for his old friend. Jūshirō knocked politely before sliding the rice paper screen open. "Kyōraku, look who's he…!"

"EEP!"

A blur shot by them. Ukitake only caught a glimpse of the blushing maidservant who went tearing away to disappear down the hallway. Bewildered, he looked back to find Kyōraku Shunsui scrambling upright, attempting to rearrange his somewhat disheveled wardrobe.

"Komamura! What a delight!" the handsome rogue proclaimed smoothly while tying his sash securely. He swept his fingers back through long curly hair that was only slightly touched by gray, gathering the long locks up and winding a tie around them to make a ponytail. "Ah, please forgive my current state, we were… discussing poetry! The young lady wanted some suggestions, and I was more than willing to…"

"Yes, yes, Shunsui," the maid's master waved a hand tiredly. He had been through this situation often enough throughout his life. It was almost a relief to know that becoming a powerless soul could not dim Kyōraku's zest. But this might be considered taking advantage of his host's goodwill. These people served him because they regarded it as a privilege. Maybe the girl was a willing participant, but… could you really call it that with the difference in their status? "Let's repair out to the gardens. I'm sure a light meal has already been prepared for us."

"Wonderful." Kyōraku beamed at them as he stuffed something that looked suspiciously like a slip up his sleeve. "Let's go, I'm starving. So, Saijin-san, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I wished to speak to you both." Komamura spoke quietly as they continued down the hall together. When nothing more proved forthcoming, Kyōraku threw Jūshirō a curious look behind the big man's back, to which he only raised his eyebrows in a mystified fashion. This really was an unusual occurrence.

A few minutes later saw three former captains of the Seireitei sitting on cushions in a tiny gazebo. The Ukitake family estate sprawled around them. Perhaps it did not quite compare in size and splendor to, say, the Kuchiki, but it was no less well tended. And, in Jūshirō's opinion at least, no less beautiful. Mulberry bushes sprouted around a stone-rimmed pond, and shade-giving trees grew in a pleasingly synchronous arrangement throughout. A small family of quail had made its nest in the sandy soil beneath a beech tree, and their mother poked her head out to watch her bipedal neighbors curiously as they took their places.

One of the family servants poured steaming rosehip tea into ancient porcelain cups before retreating with a bow. Now free of prying eyes or indeed any possibility of eavesdropping, Ukitake took a sip before setting the cup down. "So, Saijin," he began in what he hoped was a welcoming manner. "I know you can't have come here for any minor reason. Please, as a friend, I'm more than willing to hear you out."

Pointed ears twitched, while that still massive frame hunched in upon itself. The dog-man's golden eyes gazed unblinkingly into the steam wafting from his own teacup. He looked to be collecting himself. At last Saijin Komamura spoke.

"A few weeks past… Ichimaru came to see me."

Ukitake's eyes widened. Kyōraku left off blowing on his tea with surprise. The two of them exchanged glances, speaking much without words.

"I can only imagine," the master of the house spoke carefully, "that this was not a social call. Any more than your being here. Regardless, I'm pleased to find you still alive."

The great shoulders lifted in a shrug, as if to indicate he did not share such a sentiment. It was heartbreaking to see this once powerful man brought so low by grief and recrimination. Still, he had always been a dutiful soul. Perhaps it was this that sustained him, and had brought him to see them today.

"His purpose in seeking me out concerned an old mission we shared command on," Komamura continued gravely. "One that held a measure of… personal interest for me." Golden eyes lifted then to regard them both. "Were you informed that the Wild Hunt had been sighted in the human realm again?"

"I…" Jūshirō realized his mouth was hanging open, and closed it hurriedly. "No… I was not. Kyōraku?"

"Hm? Oh, well… Nanao mentioned something along those lines to me earlier, but I didn't want to worry you." An accusing glare from Ukitake only caused him to smile amiably. "Not like it would have done any good."

"I would have appreciated the opportunity to determine that for myself," his friend retorted coldly. He rubbed at an ache in his neck he had not noticed until now, feeling far more weary than he had been only seconds past. Jūshirō might no longer be in the game, but it seemed evil did not take retirement into consideration. It made him shiver to think that this peaceful, tranquil home could be set upon by monsters still, and he no longer able to defend it.

With an effort he shook off such unworthy thoughts and returned his attention to the bearer of these bad tidings. Komamura was speaking again.

"Ichimaru and I were tasked with destroying the Hunt on its last known escapade. This is common knowledge. The Hunt has not been seen nor heard from again in almost half a century. Gin came to inform me this was no longer the case. But I did not need him to."

About to speak, Jūshirō paused when a low growl came to his ears.

Before him, Saijin Komamura's hackles were raised. Those once mighty hands fisted in the fabric of his trousers. Sharp teeth were bared in a snarl. There was a look in the beast-man's face now that both captains found unsettling. Something unpleasant, wild, and in no way human.

"I already knew…" Saijin lifted blazing eyes to regard them, "… for I was Cernunnos."

* * *

><p><em>Check it out. <em>

Eh? What's that, Inu no Mure?

Makizō Aramaki brought down the booze gourd he had been gulping out of with a contented sigh. He wiped the back of one hand over his mouth a bit unsteadily, cheeks flushed red and eyes glazed. From his position atop a small bare hillock, the lone shinigami scout scanned the nighttime terrain of Hueco Mundo disinterestedly.

What? I'm not seeing anything.

_Look. I see a hell butterfly. Lots of 'em._

Makizō complied. Sure enough, what appeared to be a swarm (flock? Hive, maybe?) of tiny dark creatures flapped overhead. Hard to tell what size they might be, what with how high up they were and his admittedly none too sober state of mind. But he was certainly not so far gone in drink to miss something straight off the bat.

Inu no Mure, you numbskull. Those aren't hell butterflies. They're bats!

_Butterflies. Bats. Same thing._

No! No, they're not!

_Whatever._

Sighing, the Tenth Seat of Squad Eleve… (no, Tiger now, Tiger Squad! Lieutenant Kusajishi had impressed this point quite clearly into his head, along with her piranha-sharp teeth, the little savage! He was not about to let himself get away with any slip even in his own mind).

Having assured himself of this, he watched the gaggle (that didn't sound right) of nighttime flyers swoop overhead on their way… somewhere else. Their presence did not disturb him. Even being alone in the very heart of enemy territory was no cause for concern. Siamese and Tiger had cleared out this stretch of sand and rock months past. There hadn't been a Hollow sighted within fifty clicks. Which sort of defeated the purpose of anyone being posted to sentry duty as he was. After you had catalogued the present surroundings (which amounted to sand, sand, few rocks here and there, sand) you were pretty much left to your own devices.

Nothing to bother or interest you. Just find a way to amuse yourself until your shift was over. In Aramaki's case, that usually meant quality time with some good strong drink. Never knew when trouble might come calling, after all.

_Know what I think?_

That word doesn't really suit you.

_What word?_

'Think'.

_You trying to say I'm dumb?_

You're certainly not intelligent company, and I should know. Pretty much all my friends are dumb.

_So what's the problem? Just be dumb too. It's got you this far, right?_

True, but what do I have to show for it?

_I don't follow._

Look around us, Inu no Mure. We're all alone in the middle of nowhere with nobody to talk to. And nobody waiting for us at home when we get back, I might add! Lots of shinigami have girlfriends or even wives, but not me. And I'm a ranked officer, even! But there's hardly a chance I'll rise any higher. Over forty years I've been in this company. That's a lot longer than most transfers. But survival without prospects isn't much better than dying. So what do you suggest I do?

… _You got anything to drink?_

You know I do. Is that seriously the best advice you can offer me?

_Can't hurt. You already look wasted. No wonder girls aren't interested._

Nettled, Aramaki withdrew the zanpakutō from its sheathe and examined his reflection in its blade as best he could. Even to his own slightly bloodshot eyes, there was not much to recommend him. His face was too square, his mouth too wide, and his eyes set too close together… or far apart, he couldn't really tell. His moustache was neat and trim, at the very least. That said something. Personal hygiene was important. Especially in the Ele… _Tiger! _Gotta remember it's Tiger now!

But as he was saying, you had to keep yourself at a minimum of proper appearance. This was as much a matter of survival as any tactic or swordplay they taught you at the Shinigami Academy. He once knew a guy who got killed just for smelling bad. Makizō was sitting right behind him when it happened. Poor stinking slob plopped himself down, and as he was reaching for a bottle on the table, Makizō remembered seeing colorful feathers twitch ever so slightly, and a voice proclaimed, "You're offending my nose, ugly."

The malodorous malcontent in question responded, "So stick it up your a…"

That was as far as he got before a fist smashed his face in. He then made the rather unwise decision to draw his sword. Unlucky bastard died choking on his own teeth a few minutes later.

Makizō didn't feel any need to regret this incident. As it turned out the dead man had been the previous holder of the position of Tenth Seat in their division, and his passing meant Makizō automatically got a promotion, making him technically one of the top combatants in their peerless squad of warriors extraordinaire. More a matter of seniority than any exceptional martial prowess on his part, but rules were rules.

He reflected on his appearance. Maybe I should grow a beard? Makizō rubbed his chin thoughtfully, angling the blade and picturing how he might look with full facial hair.

It was thanks to this he saw the woman standing behind him.

"Can you help me?"

"EYYAAAAAAAH!"

Aramaki Makizō screamed loud enough to bring Hollows rushing from all corners of Hueco Mundo and beyond. His attempts to scramble upright saw him pitching forward to land spread-eagled in the sand, arms and legs flailing back and forth like he was trying to swim away across the desert. Only after swallowing a mouthful of silica did it finally occur to him to stop wriggling unsuccessfully and leap to his feet, spinning around with both hands clapped around the hilt of his trembling sword.

"W-W-WHO ARE YOU?! IDENTIFY YOURSELF!" he screamed in what was meant to be an intimidating fashion.

"Misato Ochi."

After this straightforward declaration she simply stood there looking at him, in no way unnerved by his shout or his drawn saber. Well, at least not as unnerved as he was. His heart wouldn't stop pounding, and he had a bad case of the shakes which might be the result of alcohol (but sadly were not).

They stared at one another. It finally dawned upon Makizō that this was not a Hollow, unmasked or otherwise. Nor was she one of the Vaizard. In fact her soul felt, well… human. This was lent further support by her casual and modern attire; pants, blouse and thin sweater. The woman stood several inches shorter than himself, with brown hair falling around her shoulders and some trendy glasses. Kind of cute, really.

Wonder if she's got a man?

"What are yo–"

"–ou a shinigami?"

They spoke at exactly the same time, leaving Makizō thoroughly confused and uncertain how to proceed. Aggressively? Chivalrously? Cowardly? However Misato did not share his indecision and promptly launched into speech.

"You're dressed sort of like the ones I've seen, but that's a new style if I'm not mistaken." She indicated his brand-new togs, which fit quite well in addition to being Grade-A body armor. "The soul cutter clinches it. You're a shinigami." Misato crossed her arms and smiled then. "Good. Means you'll do. Follow me."

And without another word she promptly marched past him, lifting her legs high and powering through the sand like a competitive athlete.

The incomprehensible woman hadn't gotten a few yards before noticing Aramaki was not following her. She spared him a clearly cross glance over her shoulder, and upon finding him still staring dumbfounded, reversed direction to march on back to where he stood.

By this point the bewildered shinigami had recollected himself to feel sufficiently in control. However odd it was to find any living person in Hueco Mundo, it did not change the fact that he was a man, an officer of the spirit world, and she no more than a frail and clearly not very powerful human woman. It was his duty to not only take charge of this situation but see to it that she be escorted to a safe environment where they could then determine how she came to be here where no mortal had any right being.

Having decided this for himself, the Tiger officer drew himself up resolutely and looked down his nose at the approaching female the way he remembered higher-ranked officers doing to him. He was feeling remarkably more sober.

"Young lady, I'll have you know that I-EEEYA-TA-TATAH!"

This was as far as he got as Misato reached up to seize his right ear and twist it so painfully and expertly he felt certain it must have come off in her hand. His gratitude at realizing this was not the case proved short-lived as the miserable death god found himself being unceremoniously dragged across the dunes by this puny woman while he babbled in pain, quite unable to stop.

"Lemme go yoOW that hurts please stop I'm not kidding GAK about to pass out heYAH wha'd I ever do to you?"

"I'm going to keep this lecture brief," his obscurely cheery-faced dominatrix said as they proceeded in a beeline across the desert. "Right now maybe half a dozen teenagers could be lost in this desert, which I'm guessing from all reports is Hueco Mundo. We were brought here thanks to an idiot, and right now the two of us are going to follow that flock of bats, because I can't think of any other way to locate my students. If you don't prove helpful, you will be left behind."

Ochi then released his smarting ear so suddenly he almost fell over. Only the clear threat in her words kept his legs moving as though in recognition that here was someone not to be trifled with. Aramaki stumbled along behind this intimidating trailblazer as they continued in the direction the bats had taken. A desire to avoid provoking her wrath any further awoke within him the manner usually only reserved for superior officers (or just plain anybody who managed to scare the living hell out of him). Makizō Aramaki was nothing if not keenly attuned to his own survival.

_Hey. We're gonna save some girls! Alright, let's do it, Makizō._

Fat chance. I'm running away the first chance I get. You watch and I'll…

As if sensing this line of thought Misato glanced warningly back at him, causing Aramaki to cringe and smile nervously to express his support of her leadership and the expedition in general. The sweat on his flushed and perspiring face apparently assured her of his compliance and she turned back around.

Maybe I should send a hell butterfly telling the regiment what's happening? Along with my last will and testament. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

_I get your girly mag collection. _

Do I have to explain the concept of what my dying involves for you again?

_Makizō… we're gonna save some girls._

Another dire glare from Misato, and both zanpakutō and master shut up after that. When her back was turned, though, Aramaki swiftly called forth a hell butterfly, gave it a recap of current events and sent it on its way. After this the unlikely party then continued trooping beneath the starry skies of Hueco Mundo, following a flock of bats.

* * *

><p>There was hissing in the tunnels. Whispered communications floated seemingly from one passageway to another, carrying with them a sense of urgency unlike that which the denizens had grown accustomed to. This was different. This peril could potentially mean their end.<p>

Lagrima strode onwards without listening. She didn't need to be burdened by the half-mad, fear-filled worries of these craven worms. She didn't need to hear whatever they thought or knew might be happening. All the dungeon's leader needed to know was that something had disrupted the delicately maintained equilibrium of this mausoleum over which she presided. If the mob panicked, fled, if she lost control even for a moment… it would mean her end. His Holiness would kill her, or they would.

Is this the day when I must die…?

NO!

Her pace quickened, and Lagrima practically _sonido_-ed down the tunnels. I can't fall, not like this, not for nothing! I've got to try and survive as long as possible. Why, when I have done nothing wrong?

Nothing wrong, nothing… I have done _nothing! _Nothing to deserve this… nothing _not_ to deserve it! I am a lowly worm! My existence has comprised no worth until now. I must strive to accomplish something to prove my value!

A rattling sound now filled her ears, growing stronger the closer she approached her destination. Lagrima forced herself not to think about death rattles she had heard from human throats. Not now when she might be faced with the same thing. She skidded to a halt, feet sliding on polished stone to arrive at the chamber in which her dream catchers hung.

It was like walking into a beehive. From the ceiling, every single one of her hundreds of carefully prepared snares was filled, rattling against one another from the thrashing familiars imbued with their deadly essence. Their glow lit the otherwise darkened chamber. Several Hollows crouched beneath these rustling eaves, glancing worriedly between each other, and clearly just as confused as herself.

A shiver went up her spine. Turning, Lagrima focused on the one face she recognized, belonging to one of the Jackal's discarded refuse. She strode forth and grabbed the little wretch by the hair, twisting painfully until it sank to its knees with a cry, single visible eye wide with fear.

"When did it happen?" she demanded.

"I don't… know," the black-haired little Hollow gasped. "I heard and… came here and… they were just like this!"

"_All _of them?" Lagrima hissed, yanking her hair again for emphasis. The prodigal cried out. Another one, very similar in build but with short sandy hair, seemed about to rush forward, but Lagrima snapped her head up and fixed the fallen soul with her empty eye sockets. It halted at the threat visible within their depths and shrank a step back, angry but unwilling to risk itself. She turned back to her informant. "They all came back at _once? _That is not supposed to happen! All of them together…!"

She didn't let herself finish. All those feeders in a flock… someone was bound to have noticed. Hollow, shinigami, even the hybrid pack who had staked out their claim here first. Someone would come to investigate. And they would find this place. Their only sanctum would be breached. Then she and her followers would be slaughtered, cowering in these lightless depths.

They would have to flee. Abandon their refuge before it was too late.

A sound impinged upon her senses. Looking up, Lagrima was reminded once again of what lay overhead. There was a feast of essence contained therein, more than she had collected in all the last year. She hadn't been expecting to reach this level of saturation for another five. Now that it was hers, she was almost afraid. Would this be enough? Did he need any more than this? It might be sufficient to bring him back fully, or at least capable of moving with them when they left, so that he need not be carried or abandoned for dead. Almost amusing, that; for if they did leave him behind, then she would assuredly die. His Holiness would have her head for failing Him.

Suspicion blossomed within her. The Hollow viceroy unslung her harp and plucked nine separate strings of different color. The reverberations went out, and when they returned, she almost dropped her weapon in surprise.

Two were still in the mortal realm, but the rest of the vessels were… _here, _in Hueco Mundo!

Lagrima was stunned by the implications. It was always too much of a risk to try and capture any of them. Something like that might be noticed. But if the vessels were within her reach, then she could actually use them to provide the feeding. This could very well be the key to a complete rejuvenation! Not to mention her freedom.

If she didn't panic, this could be her salvation. The key to escaping this prison.

Her choice was made before she even thought about it. Lagrima turned to the mob of Hollows clustered at her back, many of whom quailed before her. She detached seven strands and held them out to her vassals.

"Bring them to me," she whispered.

* * *

><p>Clad in a comfortable white yukata, sitting cross-leged on the floor of the Kuchiki dojo, Tōshirō Hitsugaya strove with all his might to meditate. The atmosphere was perfect, as expected with anything involving this clan. Candles burned softly on posts. Two swords rested in their stands. Other than this, the room was bare save for tatami straw mats. Designs painted on the sliding screens evoked feelings of tranquility and harmonious nature. Not a thing to disturb you, not even the creaking of the home's timbers. It was like even they knew their role and were pleased to offer their humble services.<p>

It therefore made Tōshirō vaguely guilty that all he could think about was he had never felt so bored in his life.

_Yet another word often associated with Byakuya._

The young captain could not find it in himself to remonstrate his zanpakutō. He did not even dare chance a peek at the man himself seated in an identical position to his right. He knew what he would find: nothing. A classic image of indrawn meditation. No sign of agitation, not even the slightest hint that this required any more effort on Byakuya Kuchiki's part than anything else he succeeded at admirably. The man was so perfect it made it hard to like him.

Hitsugaya Tōshirō was not of an ungrateful nature. Having been scorned so severely in his youth, he could appreciate when someone honestly wanted to help you. And when Captain Kuchiki met with him after the Autumn War and offered to help him train, it seemed like a golden opportunity. With the rumors surrounding the Kuchiki, perhaps quite literally.

It was on the first day that reality came crashing home. A horde of instructors fell upon him, complete with lectures and printed material for him to read. Tōshirō didn't even get to see Byakuya for two weeks. Any fantasies of a no-holds-barred battle with the superlative shinigami quickly dissipated. Instead he was actually subjected to tutorials; on the nature of the spirit, the essence of swordsmanship and proper social discipline, all delivered by frowning old geezers who probably hadn't lifted a sword since Byakuya's grandparents' day.

Needless to say, the situation did not improve when the lord of the manor himself decided he was ready to descend and start the real training.

Both of their zankaputo were nestled in stands against the far wall. The captain of Greyhound Company hadn't said a word when he laid Senbonzakura into her cradle, then stood aside patiently with arms crossed. And so Tōshirō had been forced to silently follow suit, all the while wondering how much they could accomplish without weapons.

The answer was, 'Not a hell of a lot'.

At least, not from his point of view. Apparently Byakuya had a different definition of tutelage than his eager young disciple had first imagined. There would be no swordplay, no testing of their spiritual limits. Not even demonstrations of sorcery, or fleetness of foot. No. Instead, their time together was spent doing… _this. _This mind-numbing tedium of seeking to achieve inner peace, personal insight, and other vague fanciful concepts that belonged in the pages of a book, not a battlefield! Honestly, what was he supposed to learn from this: how to _think _people to death? Maybe if I drop into the lotus position on the battlefield and start droning, "Ommm," Aizen will be too busy laughing to notice when Ichigo Kurosaki chops his head off.

_Would you do so if that was assured of happening?_

Maybe. Maybe not.

_This is exactly what Lord Kuchiki is attempting to address. You lack clarity._

Not true. I can very _clearly _picture decapitating Aizen.

_And you will be no closer to making it happen than when you first fought. _

Tōshirō bristled slightly.

_Your enemy assuredly does not spend his time daydreaming about killing his opponents. Instead he makes certain that he can. How assured are you that, were Aizen Sosuke to present himself before us right now, the victor in the battle would be you?_

I'm working on it. Why else would I be here, subjecting myself to this misery? Next time we meet, I am going to kill the bastard!

_You do not even know when that might occur. What makes you think you will succeed where others have failed? An entire legion of captain-class warriors stood arrayed against him, yet you yourself remain certain that he survived the battle, perhaps even triumphed. What does that indicate about such an opponent?_

That he cheated? What else would you call four _vasto lorde_ and a sword that distorts your opponent's perceptions?

_I call it beyond your reach. And it was three vasto lorde._

About to launch into a full-scale argument with his spiritual partner, Tōshirō was distracted by a door sliding open to one side. Revealed there was one of Byakuya's servants with head bowed and fists pressed to the floor.

"I beg your pardon, my lord," the man intoned in the manner of a condemned criminal. "Please forgive the disturbance, but our precious Lady Rukia has returned to the manner. She requests to speak with Your Lordship, at his convenience."

Tōshirō could have hugged the messenger, and kissed their precious Lady Rukia. This swift-blooming goodwill towards all mankind died out just as quickly when Byakuya made no response to the revelation. Not even the slightest twitch of an eyelash. The smaller captain cast a sidelong glance at him mistrustfully. Had the Captain-Commander slipped into a state of perfect Zen-like meditation such that he could not be bothered to recognize the world around him? Or was he simply taking a nap? Heaven knows the previous Commander-General had suffered from a similar ailment, such that you could never really tell if he was awake during the captains meetings or not. On the other hand…

Right then Byakuya Kuchiki's stormy eyes slid open, such that Hitsugaya almost jumped in surprise. While he gaped the aristocrat rose smoothly upright.

"I must attend to other matters, Hitsugaya-taicho," he spoke with the severity of a judge laying down his ruling. "My absence should not prevent you from continuing with your training. I will return shortly."

So saying, Byakuya strode majestically from the room, leaving Tōshirō by himself.

The young captain wasted no time in flopping onto his back and flinging out his arms and legs with a contented sigh. He closed his eyes in sheer bliss. Oh, but this feels _good._

_I see we are only concerned with appearances when other people are there to witness them._

Hang the cost. I need a break. My back's so stiff there might be a pole jammed up my ass. The pole of discipline.

_Child, you are weak._

This unexpected attack would have caused him to bolt upright were he not so wound tight. Instead Tōshirō simply frowned and furrowed his brow.

What's with you today? I can't remember the last time you let me have it so badly.

_There are monsters hovering over you, separated only by the paper-thin walls of a hand-knit heaven. The shinigami have still not fully recovered from their losses sustained in the Autumn War. Hollows continue to assault the living despite your forces in Hueco Mundo. And how do you react? By sulking over how mistreated you are. _

What exactly do you want me to do, Hyōrinmaru? I'm not God. I can't solve everyone's problems on my own.

_How would you even try?_

What?

_What would you do? Take me up and use me as is your will? Attack with spell, steel, and any other weapon that came to hand? How do you intend to defeat your nemesis? Should Aizen…_

Hyōrinmaru's words began to sound more faint. This was all too much. Tōshirō felt himself beginning to drift off to sleep, and welcomed it. He didn't even have enough spirit left to resist, much less argue his case. Heaven knows he could use the rest.

His sense of the world around him was diminishing. A presence spoke to him then, hands, reaching out to embrace, and a woman's voice, whispering…

"Captain?"

Tōshirō's eyes snapped open, to find Rukia Kuchiki bent over him with a worried expression.

_So much for appearances._

In a single fluid movement he had spun about and sprang to his feet, almost cracking her jaw with his head in the process.

"Lieutenant Kuchiki," he stated with no indication that she had caught him in an embarrassing position. "I was…"

Words failed him at this point. In all the months he had been here, Tōshirō had only seen the lady of the house once, and then from a distance. Her position as a lieutenant obviously demanded her attention, and he couldn't spend all his time here. But still, it felt a little odd suddenly speaking like this.

While he struggled to save face, Rukia had already straightened upright. If she was perturbed by this situation, her royal training would not permit her to show it.

"My apologies, Captain. I was in such a rush to pay my respects that I failed to consider you might still be meditating. If you like I will leave you to continue with…"

"That won't be necessary." Any opportunity to have something resembling real human company would not be refused at this point. His sanity was hanging by a thread, after all. "My training can wait until after we've spoken."

Crouched on her knees in front of him, Rukia smiled politely, losing any resemblance to her emotionless sibling in the process. "I'm pleased to hear it. Would you do me the honor of sharing tea together?"

"It would be a pleasu…"

The door slid open softly, and before he knew it there was a low table placed between them bearing two jade cups and a teapot of the same carved to resemble a dragon coiled around itself. Several plates of artfully decorated sweetmeats served to complete this repast. Whatever servants responsible for this registered as mere flickers out of the corners of his eyes, only to disappear upon some unseen signal from their mistress, shutting the screens behind them and thus leaving the pair alone once again.

Steam rose from the teapot dragon's mouth along with an almost palpable sense of warmth. Without hesitation Rukia lifted the implement and poured for them both, a fine aroma completing this impeccable presentation. She gracefully held out his cup and Hitsugaya took it, feeling unaccountably awkward by comparison and afraid he might spill the beverage all over himself.

This in and of itself was new territory. He did not usually worry about the proper way to hold a drink, much less how to sit, where to look, or any such laughably basic concepts. But here in Kuchiki Manor, one could not help but feel as though generations of aristocratic shades were watching you from the shadows with condemning eyes, silently demanding you not only be aware of their longstanding traditions but obey them impeccably so as not to bring dishonor upon their memory. His own upbringing had certainly done nothing to prepare him for such rigidly orchestrated opulence. One would think after living in the Seireitei for so many years he would not find himself befuddled at mere social niceties.

Both took their first sip of the beverage, with Tōshirō reminding himself at the last second not to slurp. This was certainly not his office where he could do as he pleased without fear of reproach. As if to emphasize this, Rukia lowered her cup and fixed him with what seemed an inquiring stare. To his beleaguered brain it looked like she was awaiting something from him. Were they supposed to talk now? Should he begin the conversation? Which of them had spoken last? He honestly could not remember.

_I am somewhat at a loss to explain your current mental state. Or lack thereof._

Whatever! If I mess this up, I'll be saddled with His Lordship again. We have to milk this interlude for all it's worth!

"So, Rukia-sama," he blurted out quickly, "what… brings you by?"

_She lives here, remember?_

Don't sass me, Hyōrinmaru.

_Perhaps next you could comment on how much she's grown?_

What did I just say?!

"I returned mainly to pay a call upon the Research and Development Bureau," Rukia responded without noticing his inner argument, and Tōshirō hurriedly strove to appear interested. "One of our friends in Karakura might be suffering from an unknown malaise. I brought a sample to see if they might determine the facts one way or another, and decided to visit home while I wait for their results."

He snapped to full attention at that, no longer needing to feign interest. "What does this involve?" Tōshirō inquired, voice grave and wary.

"I am uncertain." His hostess glanced out the window as she took another sip of tea. This might have indicated stress on her part, or merely a desire to appreciate the beautiful scenery outdoors. "With talk of the Wild Hunt these last few months followed by an almost oppressive silence, the town feels like it's on edge. And yet I have seen nothing overly suspicious. Only now one of Ichigo's classmates is experiencing strange dreams which do not bode well, as they concern..." here her face betrayed a possible shadow of discontentment, "… his other half."

"I see." Hitsugaya sought time to ponder by taking a drink. All the captains were aware of the particular burden hoisted by Ichigo Kurosaki. The peril represented by his inner Hollow could not be downplayed, as Rukia's brother would attest. A part of him remained unconvinced they had anything to really worry about. The Vaizard were functioning admirably with their inner demons, and apparently had been doing so for over a century. Nanao Ise had even taken up the human boy's training. Surely with so many people forewarned and forearmed, there was little chance of anything suspicious being overlooked. This very episode proved that. They were all being careful.

And yet there were many unknown variables working against them. Threats unseen were far more grave than those you were aware of.

Take, for example, the very person sitting tranquilly before him right now.

Tōshirō hated to admit it, but Rukia Kuchiki made him uncomfortable. Through no fault of her own. This lady, a noblewoman of the highest peerage and ranking officer of the Gotei 7, also happened to be an assassin trained by Aizen Sosuke himself. The only thing which prevented her from remembering this was a memory spell Rukia herself had willingly proposed to have placed upon her. To top that off she had also served as apprentice to his childhood friend Momo Hinamori, whose own betrayal was covered up just as securely as her continued existence. As such, he had to exercise a certain degree of self-possession around her not normally attributed to the somewhat blunt and straightforward leader of Leopard Company.

The young captain was not alone in this predicament. Over a dozen of his friends and allies always had to keep in mind that Rukia remembered nothing of what had taken place following her defeat of Gin Ichimaru during the Autumn War. Her role in that affair, both ignoble and awe-inspiring though it may be, now served as one of the most closely guarded secrets of the Seireitei, privy only to a select few. And as much as he might have wanted to speak to her, to learn whatever secrets about Aizen and their history together only she could reasonably supply, he was honor-bound to respect the tremendous sacrifice this strong-willed woman shouldered.

It had never occurred to him how difficult it was to keep a secret from somebody you knew. How in the world had Byakuya Kuchiki successfully deceived this girl for nigh on fifty years without cracking from the strain? Was there anything he could not do? The thought left Hitsugaya resenting and envying his frustrating teacher to an even greater extent than before. This place really was going to drive him insane.

"We shall know ere long if there is true case for concern," the young woman stated with precise decorum, her gaze settling on him again. "In any case, I'm pleased to find you well, Captain. My brother informed me that you were visiting us today and I wanted to be certain to pay my respects, since there has not been an opportunity before now. I trust your lessons together are proving productive to your education."

Not a hint of a smile or even change in her inflection; all the same, he could not rid himself of the suspicion that she was laughing at him on the inside. Or perhaps it was just a case of frayed nerves. Resolved not to let his worst impulses get the best of him, Tōshirō settled on telling the truth.

"You can't disturb what wasn't happening. Your brother's example is… a very difficult ideal to reach."

Oddly enough, this was what brought a full-blown smile to her face, causing Rukia to glow like sunlight reflecting through an icicle.

"Yes, Nii-sama has completely mastered a state of inner reflection," she abruptly gushed with no attempt to hide her pride in this accomplishment. "He is writing a treatise on its applications in the area of soul purification and the basis of the shinigami essence. The academic community has been eagerly following his accomplishments towards successfully developing the mythical 'bare-handed absolution' technique, allowing the purification of Hollows without even drawing one's zanpakutō. This would represent a radical reformation not only of Academy doctrine, but also the very nature of our existence as death gods. I'm very excited to read his final draft!"

Hitsugaya was honestly surprised. He had never heard anyone speak so highly of Byakuya before. At least, with no trace of jealousy or underlying rancor. To his even greater surprise, he found himself somewhat interested in reading that treatise himself.

_I cannot say which of us is more horrified._

I know. If this is the result of living in Byakuya's presence 24-7, I really need to get out of here fast.

"It's… an honor to learn from him," he lamely replied.

"I know," she sighed, and he could have sworn he saw a blush creeping into her cheeks.

I want to go home.

It came as an almost divine relief when a hell butterfly chose that moment to come flapping into the room towards them. Tōshirō's heart soared in response. Yes! Plausible excuse, come to me! Rescue my sanity and let me abandon this noble nuthouse!

To his dismay, the messenger instead bobbed over to Rukia, who held up her hand to let it alight. So much for an official reason to ditch meditation. For perhaps the first time in his short life, the acclaimed savant wished he could act the way he looked, behave like a child and selfishly forego all this… tedium.

_Would that we lived in less dangerous times._

I don't need a lec…

His inner dialogue was interrupted by a gasp from Rukia. She glanced quickly up at him. Just as he was about to inquire what might be wrong…

The look she gave Tōshirō stopped him altogether.

It didn't last long, as her expression assumed that firm Kuchiki discipline natural to the family. She stood up, and he followed suit.

"Unfortunately, my duty calls. I won't keep you from your meditation any longer, Captain," the lieutenant bowed respectfully. "It has been a pleasure seeing you again. Nii-sama will rejoin you shortly once he has completed some tasks that require his attention."

"I'm looking forward to it." No further evidence of discomfort was given away. Still, what he had seen was sufficient enough…

"I hope we have another chance to converse. Pray enjoy all the comforts of our home while you are in attendance."

"Thank you." He inclined his head in response, keen emerald eyes never leaving her face. Rukia did not flinch or even acknowledge his intense examination as she turned and strode smoothly from the room, a testament to the Kuchiki's remarkable ability to restrain themselves. Hitsugaya did nothing to prevent her from departing.

The butterfly flapped lazily towards the window as she left.

In a flash Tōshirō traveled clear across the chamber to seize the departing insect in his fist before it could escape. His reasons for doing so were simple. The way Rukia had looked for just a split second back there… the horror she momentarily couldn't hide. Her immediate reaction was to look at him; not to ask for help, but more as though he were somehow linked to whatever had caused her such distress. There was no way to tell now what the message might have been, whether it regarded the matter they had touched upon before or not. Only the intended target could access that information, which had already dissipated after the transfer.

But every shinigami, even a young one like himself, picked up a few things they didn't teach you in the Academy. While one couldn't spy on the exact message, if you caught a hell butterfly soon afterwards, it was at least possible to determine through tactile contact who had last sent it. Which could very well lead to answers.

The information he wanted came swiftly, and upon registering this it was Tōshirō's turn to feel shock, so intense his grip went slack. The hell butterfly flapped somewhat sulkily away at this treatment. Its wings brushed against his face with almost palpable accusation.

He didn't even notice. The identity of its sender had momentarily rendered him speechless.

Rukia Kuchiki had just received a message from his traitorous lieutenant, Rangiku Matsumoto.

Moments later he had snagged Hyōrinmaru and was moving to pursue the young Lady Kuchiki. His reiatsu was hidden by magic as he stole through the halls so as to prevent her noticing him. Whatever Rukia might believe, or any reason there might exist for not immediately informing him of this development, it concerned him. On a very personal level. As an officer of the Gotei 7, as a dutiful shinigami… and as someone who had a score to settle.

Matsumoto. That woman was going to answer for what she had done. To him, personally. The rest could wait until Tōshirō had his say.

* * *

><p>"Switch!"<p>

The soccer ball arced through the air. Without altering his gait, Kon caught it on one upraised knee and proceeded to bounce the ball from one leg to the other. His superior pistons enabled him to do so while still maintaining a higher-than-average walking speed, causing Karin to jog to catch up. As they made their way down the street, the middle-schooler laced her hands behind her head and studied her outwardly teenage cohort for a few seconds.

"Say, Kon," she finally hazarded, "Could I get legs like yours?"

Absorbed in his athletic accomplishments, the lanky mod soul did not look at her when he spoke. "No."

Expected as much. Still, Karin was feeling adventurous, and so she pressed on. "I mean, say I died, and went to Soul Society. Would I be able to get them then?"

A faintly cross expression passed briefly over his face. "I wouldn't recommend it. Besides, the person responsible for giving them to me isn't around anymore, so you're out of luck. Switch!"

He passed the sphere back to her. Karin had to concentrate much harder than him not to lose the bouncing rhythm while maintaining a straight line and avoiding any other pedestrians. She recognized also that he was trying to distract her from asking any more questions. School had been out for almost half an hour and the press was starting to thin. They were only a few blocks from their destination now, so the conversation would have to wait anyway. Still, she resented how closed-mouthed her protector got concerning his past. Couldn't hurt that much to share, right?

_Thump-thump. _"So what if… a Hollow… ate you…?" Karin panted while continuing her training, feeling proud at being able to resume the conversation as well. Score one for multi-tasking! _Thump-thump-thump. _"Does that mean… it'd get… super-fast too?" _Thump-thump._

He stuffed his hands into his pockets while slouching along. Sometimes Karin wondered if he knew just how much he looked like her older brother at times like this. "If that happened, the only thing the Hollow would get is nausea."

Karin glanced at him quickly before returning her attention to maintaining loft on the soccer ball. "You're kidding… right?"

"No, actually, I'm not. We mod souls are designed that way. If I didn't know any better, I'd think Ku… my creator threw that in as a joke. But he was seriously nutty that way."

"Oh."

He almost gave away a man's name there, Karin pondered in deliberation. Ku… Kuchiki, maybe? Could Kon have been created by Rukia's family? It would explain how they knew each other. Ichi-nii mentioned once that they were super-rich in the afterlife. Maybe the Kuchiki had their hands in all sorts of businesses and experiments and what-not, same as wealthy folks here. And Rukia had an elder brother they had never met. Her imagination pictured something along the lines of their current prime minister; unsmiling old guy in a three-piece suit. Only this guy would be dead.

This brought her back to a topic she had been considering for a while now.

"Kon?"

"Yeah?"

Karin continued their shared game, never letting her attention waver for a moment. "What will happen? When I… die?"

He made a sound then, and stopped walking. Karin caught the ball and paused as well. She glanced over at him, and was astonished to find her guardian rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. Kon's teeth were gritted like he was biting back from saying something. After a while he dropped his arms to peer at the girl studying him curiously with the soccer ball pressed to her stomach.

"Were you this much of a headache for Ichigo before we met?" he demanded. "Cuz it would seriously explain his bad personality! Why are you even thinking about dying at your age?"

To his concern, this actually made her smile at him. "Because my _dad's_ a retired shinigami, my brother's a part-_time_ shinigami, his best friend was _made_ by a shinigami, and they're both in love with the same dead girl, who is also, guess what… a _shinigami!"_

Kon stared.

"Who told you I'm in love with Nee-sa… ! Wait a minute." His face took on a look of sheer incredulity. "You think _I'm _Ichigo's best friend?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded.

"Are you kidding me?! What about Chad! Or Tatsuki? That idiot Keigo… hell, even URYŪ!"

"Nope." Karin wore her cheekiest grin now, the very picture of pain-in-the-butt little sister. "You're definitely the one who gets him best." As he drew breath to proceed with further exhortations, she suddenly demanded, "So how 'bout it? What _will _happen when I die?"

This zig-zagging from one unrelated topic to another left Kon feeling incredibly flustered. For a while he could only stare at her in exasperation. He didn't remember feeling this uncomfortable back when he was just a doll. Since his elevation to living breathing human status, there had definitely been a difference in the way he was treated by Karin. Maybe it was a sign he was growing up? Or she was. It remained unclear which prospect left him feeling more outmatched. When she finally gets boobs she's gonna be an absolute nightmare for guys the world over.

Inevitably, his imagination began to wander…

HALT! CEASE AND DESIST! AROINT YE, VILLAIN!

Karin watched in silence as Kon began to inexplicably beat his head against a tree trunk while screaming, "BAD! BAD! BAD!" It was best not to ask with him. She didn't really think he would do much damage… to the tree, that is. Instead she decided to make the last leg of the journey to Ishida's house alone and let him get all the crazy out.

Upon her arrival, however, it seemed like strange behavior had beaten her there.

"BRING THEM BACK, YOU OLD RETARD, OR I SWEAR I'LL CALL ISHIDA-SAN'S DAD!"

"NO, PLEASE! LAST TIME HE THREATENED TO… HURT… ME IF I CAUSED ANOTHER INCIDENT!"

Mahana Natsui was apparently the one doing the yelling. She was standing in the Ishida's front yard with her fists balled in Don Kanonji's jacket, while Michiru Ohgawa hovered around them looking unsure of what to do. No one else was in evidence.

"Hey," Karin called upon strolling up, looking from one face to the next in search of an explanation. "What gives?"

Three heads swung to focus on her.

"Karin-chan?"

"Karakura Red!"

"You're here!"

Explanations followed.

When it was over, she looked straight at Don Kanonji and declared, "You dumbass."

Their flamboyant elder adopted a crestfallen look and hung his head. "I have failed once again. But allow me to make it right!" He then swept his cape around himself while raising that ludicrous magic staff overhead. "For you too are infected with the same fetid miasma as the other ones, little sister! If I can coax even one out from you, we might use it to track these fell creatures to their source! Brace yourself as I…!"

Karin lifted one arm and pointed at a tree several yards off. "Go sit over there and don't bother us. Otherwise I'm calling Keigo's sister and telling her what you did."

Where the threat of Ishida Ryūken had served to dismay him, this new menace reduced their whacky sponsor to a quivering puddle of dread. "Please… do not tell Mizuho-san…" he whispered. "I won't…"

The showman then beat a hasty retreat, passing Kon as he did, who gave him a funny look before jogging over to join the three girls. Kanonji obediently dropped down where previously indicated with his legs tucked against his chest, eyes that had bravely faced the worst the afterlife could offer now darting fearfully about at the thought of facing the wrath of a certain high school senior. His friends blatantly ignored his presence as they continued their discussion.

At this point Don Kanonji spotted a monkey in the trees, but before he could think to call anyone's attention to it…

"Hey there. Got a minute?"

The Visionary Vizier looked up to find…

…. _enormous_ breasts…

…smiling down on him… with the kindness of a goddess.

All thoughts of primates and guilt were swept away. His heart soared, his mind went blank, and he found himself stammering, "H-how may I be of help, o divine lady?"

Unmindful of what was transpiring a short distance away, Karin had a cell phone to her ear and was listening to a dial tone. After a while she frowned and thumbed it off. "No answer," the girl sighed before calling up another number. Rukia couldn't be reached, and Doctor Ishida had changed his number so many times to keep Ochi-sensei from bugging him she couldn't possibly remember it. That left the Dragon Lady, and after that Ishida Jr.

"Lemme get this straight," Kon's brow beetled furiously beside her as he addressed Mahana. "They all got kidnapped by ghost bats?"

"Actually, I'm thinking it wasn't an intentional kidnapping." The curly-haired girl had her own phone out and was busily tapping in some information. "I mean, it can't be a coincidence that Michiru and I are the only ones who didn't get spirited away… besides Kanonji-san, that is. My guess is they got pulled in by accident when the bats flew back to their cave, or whatever, cuz they were still connected somehow. Makes sense if you think about it."

"Maybe to you. Although come to think of it…" Here the mod paused as a thought seemed to occur to him. "One time, when we were at the park, I could have sworn I saw something fly out of Tatsuki while she was sleeping. Thought it was maybe a hell butterfly, but it might have been one of those… things."

"But what are they? And why only them? Why not us? Or me?" Little Michiru was trying not to sound ungrateful at being left behind from this ghost-napping, but her heart clearly wasn't in it. Karin couldn't blame her; despite being older, Ohgawa was the weakest among them in terms of spiritual strength. She could hardly see ghosts. Although in this case it might have worked out in her favor. Being so slight spiritually could explain why she hadn't been sucked in, or even what allowed her to catch that thing in the first place without splattering it the way Keigo had.

Was that why Michiru hadn't been targeted by those bats? Was it only people with a certain level of spiritual development? The theory had an obvious flaw; that womanizer Mizuiro barely ranked higher than her, and he was gone with the rest of them.

Wait… hadn't Kanonji mentioned there being something inside me as well? Maybe I should ask him about that now.

Karin looked over to where she had banished the goofball, and her jaw dropped.

"… tried to stop them, but by then, it was too late! The bad su-pirit-su had already done their work, and absconded with all the lovely ladies! Minus three, myself included. But never fear! I shall allow no ill fate to befall such a beauteous angel as yourself, oh vision of loveliness! The Psychic Psychopomp shall shield you from any supernatural stalkers! OH, YEAH, HE-RO TIME, BAY-BEE!"

It wasn't the ridiculous monologue, which she must have reflexively tuned out up to this point. No, it was the one on the receiving end of this diatribe.

Don Kanonji happened to be sharing a drink with none other than Rangiku Matsumoto.

Noticing her staring at them, Rangiku smiled. "Yo, Karin-chan," the fugitive death god grinned gamely, saluting with two fingers.

Stunned, Karin had only just registered her surprise at this situation when she found herself being grabbed by the collar and thrust roughly behind Kon, who now interposed himself between her and the sweetly smiling woman. From this position she could not see his face, but by his posture, it was clear he meant business.

"Oh, relax, big boy," the buxom beauty sighed as she reached over and snagged the saké flask from Kanonji, refilling her cup. "I'm not here for your little playmate. That particular mission's been rendered moot anyway, as of today. The Psychedelic Psychic here already explained everything to my satisfaction."

She stood up then, dusting herself off and tossing back the drink. Breathing a heavy sigh that caused her chest to bounce enticingly, Matsumoto shook her head in rueful reproach. "I swear, you people are almost more trouble than you're worth."

Mahana came strolling up to peer in simple curiosity at her. "So this is the crazy lady?" she mused aloud.

"Where are they?" Kon growled, ignoring the question and focusing in solely on Matsumoto. His voice sent an involuntary shiver up Karin's spine. "What did you do with them? If you don't bring those kids back safe, I swear I'll…"

"Want a drink?" Their adversary held out her cup, never losing that charming smile. "C'mon, it'll settle your nerves." When he did not move to accept, she shrugged and chugged the shot back.

When her head came up, Rangiku's face had lost any trace of friendliness.

"I'll be brief just in case you've already called Nanao-chan," she spoke with a hint of steel in her voice. "I'm not responsible for any of this. We've been _tracking _those things, trying to follow them back to their source." Her eyes flickered briefly to Karin and back again. "Last time we met I was trying to get the kid to drink a spell mixture. Had I succeeded, any of those Harvesters that came out of her afterwards would have carried a small tracking signal. Not that she would have remembered it; the spell was designed to make her forget our meeting, just like the others did."

Karin eyed her mistrustfully. "Harvesters? _Others?"_

"Your lost playmates." As she spoke, the vixen reached up to draw a pink silk scarf negligently off her neck. "A lot of you have been infected. Those bats were harvesting something from your souls. I managed to slip a mickey to the rest without them noticing. If they recognized me, they forgot soon after. Karin was the last, but there was no easy way to do it with her. Even mortals take notice when somebody tries to mess with a kid's drink. Doesn't matter how hot you are; the old protective urges win out. So I tried the direct approach and…"

There came a slight 'woomph' of displaced air, and then Kon stood before Rangiku with one hand encasing the wrist that held the pink scarf and the other wrapped around her neck.

It was hard to say which of them was more surprised by this. Karin hadn't even noticed him about to move, much less seen it. He was simply too fast. For her part, Matsumoto's great blue eyes had gone even wider, unfeigned shock written across that lovely face.

"Well," she murmured, throat working a little against his grip. "You've… made some improvements, I see."

"You used that trick before, remember?" The mod soul's youthful features had gone dark. When she shifted slightly, he tightened his grip as a warning. Matsumoto went still then, regarding him with what looked like a new level of respect. Certain that he had her full attention, Kon continued. "I wouldn't recommend teleporting. We'd both go together, and then I just might find your evil hideout."

"And then you might just die," she flashed him a look equal parts menacing and sultry.

"Yeah. But as you said, I've got some new tricks. Chances are I'll get away, and then even the biggest boobs on earth won't be enough to save you, I'll bet."

She seemed to consider this, cocking her head as much as his hold would allow. "You know…" Rangiku then smirked in a way that looked oddly affectionate. "You might just get lucky after all."

Her hand opened, the scarf dangling limply, only to fall free moments later.

"Too bad."

At this Rangiku snapped her fingers, and the air tore open right behind her with a weird cry.

Even as Mahana grabbed her shoulders to pull Karin back from this display, one word was flowing through the girl's mind: _Hollow! _She had seen this same type of jagged darkness ripped out of the environment before, whenever those soul-eating monsters were making their way into this world. It led to their nesting ground; Haiku Mundo, or whatever it was called.

But nothing came out of this portal. Instead, Rangiku only smiled at the man still holding her in a grip of steel.

"I'd let go… if I were you. You do not… want to go where I'm headed, believe me."

With that she took a step back. Kon's whole body stiffened in an effort to restrain this escape attempt. Her free arm shot out, only to be blocked by one lightning-swift kick from his leg. She grimaced as if in pain, and they struggled on the very cusp of falling into the black hole. The valiant mod refused to back down, as if he fully intended to get dragged along with her, so determined was he not to let go.

As they struggled together, something small dropped from a nearby tree and took advantage of the distraction to dash forward in a blur, slipping past their legs and disappearing into the void.

Right then Rangiku gave a tremendous heave backwards. For a moment it appeared they would both fall into the darkness together. But as the dueling pair teetered on the brink, her eyes drifted over his shoulder. "Gonna leave the kids alone?" she gasped the challenge mockingly.

Kon's features twisted, and with a curse he released her and sprang clear of the Garganta, landing close to the girls. They all watched as the tear in space knitted up. From within it Matsumoto rubbed her neck gingerly. Before she disappeared from sight, however, her uncharacteristically serious eyes locked with Karin's.

"Be careful, kid. You've got something they want."

And with that she was gone.

For a while no one moved. The pink scarf lay where it had fallen in a crumpled heap. Noticing this, Kon stepped forward and picked it up. With a frown he tucked it into his pocket and continued to stare at the spot where his enemy had disappeared, considering.

Karin joined him. "You okay?" she asked with some concern.

He looked down at her, then back at the rest of their small group. At last he shook his head, apparently reaching some decision. "C'mon. I'm taking you all to the Usagi Shoten."

* * *

><p>'<em>Hey, Gin. You'll never guess where I am: Hueco Mundo! Wish you were here. No, seriously, get over here NOW! I didn't intend to come alone, and it would take too long to come back now. No time to explain. Just follow our spell, which is what I'm going to do. Hurry up and save me!' <em>

A hell butterfly arced away from Matsumoto's fingers. Clad in black now in the middle of a white desert, the rogue shinigami turned to where her gigai sat waiting patiently.

"He won't be here for a while yet. I'm going in. Keep a low profile, and wait for one of us to come back. Run if anyone tries to catch you."

"No problem, boss lady," the amorous avatar crooned, dragging her feet seductively through the sands with a saucy wink.

Satisfied, Rangiku then withdrew a cell phone from one pocket and opened it. The screen now showed a conglomeration of homing beacons relative to her position. Fortunately, it wasn't far. Shouldn't take long to reach the source of this trouble. She only hoped whatever she found didn't prove too overwhelming, or Gin might go on a rampage when he caught up, depending on her condition.

_He loves saving you. It turns him on. Makes me think there's something of the hero in his personality._

You wouldn't know it to listen to him. He can be such a mother hen.

_It shows in his actions. Some of the best sex we've ever had came after he rushed to your rescue!_

I know where this is headed. I'm not getting injured just to satisfy your cravings.

_Spoilsport. _

Don't pout. Makes you appreciate the real thing more.

"Can we go already? I'm tired of waiting."

The voice came from behind. She had no idea who had just spoken, but that didn't prevent Matsumoto Rangiku from responding with utmost control and precision.

Her well-trained reaction to being surprised in a situation like this was to yelp, spin around, and quickly yank open her robes, exposing her bountiful décolletage in all their glory. And it worked, because the kid standing only a few feet away from her was too busy gawking at this unexpected peepshow to react when her gigai sprang forward and pinned him to the ground.

She smoothly redid her attire, studying their captive at the same time. What came as a surprise was that he didn't struggle. At first she thought it was due to him still being in shock. Heaven knows her body had that effect on men, regardless of how young they might be. But when his messy little head lifted to look at her, his face proved completely calm. Like he didn't have two very strong arms and legs wrapped around him like vices. Like she couldn't separate his head from his shoulders in one stroke. Like he was completely in control and not afraid to let her do as she pleased to prove it.

To be honest, it was a little intimidating. And exciting, even.

_Maybe he'd react if you stuffed your chest in his face?_

Time for that later.

"So who are you?" she asked casually, crossing her arms and staring down at him with carefully feigned indifference. "Make this snappy. I've got somewhere to be, and you're five seconds away from a Level 80 bakudō up your bu…"

"I'm Masahiko. Lead the way, cuz I'm coming with you. That fast enough?"

She considered this unforeseen development. Strange colored eyes. Bad haircut. Attitude out the ears. Kinda cute if he cleaned up. And a very powerful shinigami for his age, one whom she hadn't noticed at all until a few seconds ago. Honestly, it was like she had stumbled upon a messy, brown-skinned version of Captain Hitsugaya. The thought was strangely comforting. But where in heaven's name did he come from, and why hadn't she sensed his approach?

Well, enough of this. "Bakudō 89: Great…"

"You're going to need my help, if you want to win this."

His declaration made her pause, and she threw an inquisitive look down. This was eating up time, but curiosity compelled her to learn just what she was dealing with. Gin always said it didn't pay to leave unquantified elements at your back. Alive, at any rate. "Have we met somewhere before? Because you're acting pretty fresh, not to mention self-confident."

"I heard most of the conversation, here and back on Earth. I think we share the same goals, _chiquita."_

He grinned impudently; at the same time, a brief flash of recognition passed through her. This feeling faded even as she tried to place it, leaving her much more uncertain than before.

The boy, Masahiko, continued. "Whoever the hell butterfly was for, it's going to take time to track you down. Those humans are in danger now. I want to rescue them, and also find out who's behind this. Only you know how to do both, but it hardly matters, because even knowing where they are, you won't save them on your own. And if you're not taking the hot gigai, it's because you want to leave it as an emergency escape route. So that means you _know_ your odds look bad. From what I've heard, your side doesn't have many people to throw at big problems like this to begin with."

His erstwhile captor bit her finger in trepidation. Honestly, Gin was better suited to this sort of complicated undertaking. It should be him here right now. Of course, that probably meant this poor kid would be dead instead of incapacitated. Her long-time lover had very lethal reactions, especially when taken by surprise. Not that this was a common occurrence.

Where were we? Oh, yes. Well…

"Bring him up."

The gigai complied, straightening into a sitting position and taking the youth with her. This new arrangement hardly left him any more room to wiggle, though it did give her a better look at him. He had the stub of a well-chewed pencil tucked in his ear, and was sporting a short-sleeved button-up shirt untucked from his black trousers. His feet were bare. There was little in his attire to mark as informative or distinguishing.

And yet, when they rose, something caught her eye. Reaching down, the beautiful spirit grasped the collar of his shirt, which had come up in the attack. He flinched when she lifted it further, his unusual golden eyes narrowing in challenge.

Rangiku took little notice of this. She was more interested in the small pink bunny head that someone had sewn into his collar.

"You're one of Rukia-chan's, then?" she mused aloud. Masahiko did not respond. He didn't need to, really. The girl's proclivities were well known, at least among those who enjoyed keeping abreast of rumors in Soul Society.

It was this, more than any of his previous arguments, which helped decide her course.

"Get off him," she sighed.

Her obedient servant complied. Moments later they all stood together on that lonely dune beneath the skies of Hueco Mundo. Rangiku perused this odd little soul once more. Masahiko did the same.

She frowned, closing her eyes and running a hand through thick honey-colored hair with a groan. "So we're clear, I'm not your nursemaid. We get in a fight, don't expect any help from me."

He nodded. "Sure. Great tits, by the way."

One sky-blue eye slid open to fix him with a withering look. The urchin only laced his hands behind his head and smiled happily. Like things couldn't be looking any rosier in his book.

_Fifty, a hundred years from now, I'd totally do him._

"Lead the way, _Tetas."_

_Oh, yeah. I'll make him pay for that one._

Looks like they were already off to a great start. Before they left, however, there was one thing she really should take care of. As a courtesy, one might say. With that, the freelance death god summoned another hell butterfly and imparted her message to it.

'_Dear Rukia-chan: Surprise, it's me! Long story short- in case you haven't heard already, some of your little schoolmates are trapped in Hueco Mundo. I'm imparting their current coordinates now. And you will never believe who I just met! His name's…'_

* * *

><p>Four members of Siamese Company held watch at their assigned position. The military operation they were currently engaged in had a broad scope, requiring sentries at regular intervals to detect any enemies . It was uneventful work, and held markedly less chance of seeing any action like those who had to work with Tiger Company this week. Still, they remained attentive to their surroundings so as not to miss an opportunity to impress the top brass.<p>

Scanning the horizon, one of them squinted. "Hey," he nudged his partner. "You see that?"

The woman looked where indicated. "What? I don't see…"

Her vigilant ally felt blood spatter against his face. The next thing he registered was a brief glimpse of something white, smiling at him through black teeth.

Yellow eyes…

Then it took his head off as well.

After this the Hollow made short work of the other two. It crouched among their corpses, scenting the wind now flavored with the delicious tang of blood. They were close now, along with a whole mess of shinigami, including a few he recognized. He would have liked to play with them all, but time was running out. He needed to find his true targets fast. And so the Hollow sped on to his destination.

* * *

><p>"You know, Tatsuki, we'd make much better time if you carried me on your back."<p>

"Even better if we just left you behind, Chizuru," she responded over her shoulder.

"Tatsuki-chan, maybe we should slow down? For her sake."

Their spikey-haired spearhead ignored this suggestion as she continued to slog through the sands. As a matter of fact, she was already moving at a vastly reduced pace for her friends' sake. Orihime had an admirable physique and could be depended upon to move briskly, but Chizuru lagged far behind in terms of athletic ability. She was the last person you'd want on a long trek across hostile territory with no clear destination in sight. Which happened to be their precise predicament at this time.

Although Inoue had recognized the general terrain as belonging to Hueco Mundo, this proved to be the limit of her previous experience. She had never been outside the bounds of the castle in which she was imprisoned, and thus had nothing to offer in terms of the terrain. With little to call landmarks and nothing in the way of discernible stars, they had simply chosen a direction and started walking.

Tatsuki had recently developed a little mantra to help keep going in this situation. With every footstep, she repeated it to herself.

'_Kill…'_

Left foot.

'… _Kanonji.'_

Right foot.

'_Kill…'_

Left foot.

'… _Kanonji.'_

Right foot.

After a while she had tried to look back to gauge their progress, only to find this was impossible. Everything looked the same around them: sand, hills, little valleys. To top it off, their footprints had completely disappeared only a few yards back, almost as if they had been swallowed up immediately by the all-encompassing waste. There was not a sound to be heard other than the ones they made. No wind blew here. Nothing moved. This world was, for all intents and purposes, dead.

'_Kill…' _Left foot._ '… Kanonji.' _Right foot. _'Kill…' _Left foot. _'… Kanonji!'_

"How about we stop and rest for a bit?" Chizuru called behind her. "We can discuss our options, conserve our strength, maybe huddle together to stay warm…"

Tatsuki pressed on. "I'm not cold. This is our only option. Keep moving."

She could hear Orihime reassuring their classmate that they would take a break in ten minutes. It was not in the gentle teen to turn down someone in distress. Normally Tatsuki would have happily kicked that horny lesbian's butt the rest of the way. But not this time. After all, Chizuru couldn't help herself. There had been no sign of any of the others since they got here. Doubtless she was just as scared and miserable as they all were, assuming everybody remained alive (please be safe, please be safe, _please _be safe). The girl was only trying to hide it by falling back on what she knew best. In an odd sort of way, that proved comforting. Like a reassurance that normalcy was not too far away, just waiting for them to find it.

And upon resumption of the daily routine would come Kanonji's big fat head, just begging for her to unload on it without anything resembling restraint. So keep it up, Chizuru. Keep bugging the bejeezus out of me. That'll make the anger nice, fresh and hot for when it comes time to deliver both barrels point-blank right between the dumb bastard's goofy eyeglasses!

'… _Kanonji.' _Right foot. _'Kill…' _Left foot.

She didn't know how long it would take them to locate anywhere resembling civilization in this giant litter box, much less a place they might actually find themselves welcome as something other than food. Her own stomach was starting to growl; there hadn't been a chance to snag any chow at the meeting before everything went to hell. Yet another valid reason to reserve all her justified wrath for the person most deserving of it. Tatsuki kept looking straight ahead so as not to unnerve her comrades with her expression. She was making no attempt to hide the black murderous rage that was no doubt transforming her face into something even a Hollow would know to steer clear of.

Right foot. _'Kill…'_

She judged it just about time for another bout of whining. Lay it on me, girl!

Only nothing followed.

Tatsuki glanced backward. Sure enough there came Orihime, chugging away with a determined look etched into those kind, beauteous features. And close behind…

… stretched only empty desert.

Oh no.

Seeing the look on her face, Orihime quickly spun about. The loss of their friend registered a second later, and she let loose a wild cry.

"CHIZURU-CHAN?!"

About to race past in search of the missing girl, Tatsuki suddenly felt something clamp painfully around her ankle. The moment she looked down was accompanied by a sense of disorientation as the very ground seemed to shrug her off, disappearing beneath her.

She tried to speak. "Ori-…"

Then there came a rush, and darkness.

This slight noise made Orihime Inoue whip around, to find that she had been completely abandoned. Disbelieving, she stood alone halfway up a hillock of sand. There had been no warning. None at all. From three friends lost but together, it had now dropped to one. Where could they have gone?

The explanation was so simple it made her angry she hadn't thought of it sooner. Trained impulse took over next, and she spoke the words without thinking. "Santen kishun, I…"

Something grabbed hold of her leg!

"… EEK!"

Off balance, Orihime fell backwards, the warding charm dissipating. Moments later two huge bone-white tendrils shot upwards to twist and flail where she had previously stood. Distracted by this new threat, she almost didn't notice the rest of the body emerge, white sands sliding off it in sheets to hover high above her, outlined black against the moon. It looked down at her, from only one great purple eye, opened its mouth and...

"AAAAHHH!"

Somebody screamed then, high and panicked, and Orihime thought it might be her, until she realized it was actually the monster before her doing the yelling. Before she could respond it shot back into the ground fast as lightning. The sand settled, leaving nothing to disturb its pristine surface.

Confused and alone, the solitary human could only stare.

Her arms and legs would not respond to any commands. Slumped like a discarded sack of rice, Tatsuki heard the sliding of sand, followed by a whump of something large settling near them. With it rose a weird clattering and creaking, like branches tapping against a window. In the darkness she heard voices rise.

"Loly, what the…?"

"I can't!" a woman sobbed. "I can't go up there! It's her! Dammit, Menoly, it's HER! That… fucking _monster-woman!"_

"Shit," the other one breathed, and there was no hiding the fear in her voice.

"What's wrong?" somebody else demanded. A shuffling sound emerged from elsewhere in the almost total void. What felt like bugs ran over her cheek, and Tatsuki desperately strove to shake it off, only to realize an instant later that it had just been sand falling from above. "Where's the other one? There are supposed to be three! Lagrima won't…"

"Fuck it!" the thing called Loly yelled in a frenzy, and the clattering increased to a fevered pitch. "Fuck her, she can kill me if she wants to! But she can't… bring me _back _afterwards, holy hell. Holy _hell!"_

After this Loly fell to muttering and cursing. Still helpless, Tatsuki lay without moving. They hadn't gotten Orihime. And they hadn't killed her right away. Two things to be glad for. Chizuru was probably in the same state as herself. The attackers (Hollows, by my guess) had hit them with something that left her virtually incapacitated and able to do little more than wriggle. She could not strike out, or see, or even speak. But she could still listen. And think.

The conclave of demons had fallen to debating somewhere in the shadows over her.

"What'll we do? Azmuth, what'll we _do?"_

"Go back up there! We're all screwed if you don't! If you don't, I'm going to…!"

A noise like nails on a chalkboard, and the protest cut off in an animal roar. Something hot and wet spattered against the martial artist's bare legs. She heard the familiar sound of a body hitting the floor soon after.

"You're already dead," a flat, threatening tone she recognized as belonging to Menoly followed. "Do the rest of you want to try and match us? You fucking masked _cowards, _you've got _no idea _what the hell's going on here! Or what we're up against!"

No response came back, only hisses and whimpers more animal than man. After this it sounded like Menoly drew away to be near Loly, and the two conversed in soft whispers. While the exact change did not reach her ears, there was the distinct impression that Menoly was attempting to convince her partner of something, and meeting angry resistance. The rattling sound began to subside, however. After a while, both returned.

"All right, listen. We're going back with what we have."

A slight intake of breath, as if in protest, was quickly silenced. The threat of immediate dismemberment hung heavy in the air. Menoly was doing the talking again. "Loly won't go, and she's the only one of us who can tunnel. If you want to stay here and try, be my guest. I don't give a rat's ass. Azmuth's dead now, so there's no time to waste. We're taking these two before his venom wears off. No telling what kind of freaky powers they might use when that happens. So you can either follow along, or stay here empty-handed until Lagrima decides who to send to kill you. Maybe it'll be me, if I'm lucky."

Her smile then was unmistakable. All was quiet save for some restive movements. Seconds later the sound of heavy feet retreating in a slow plodding rhythm could be heard. Menoly had been right; these guys were cowards.

"Good move."

Someone picked her up then, and they proceeded to follow the ones that came before. Tatsuki let herself go completely limp. She was positive now that they were currently underground in some kind of tunnel system beneath the desert. The Hollows were taking them elsewhere, probably to give to this Lagrima person. And apparently the paralysis was temporary. If she just kept her cool, an opportunity might present itself. To fight to the death, at the very least. Just remain in check 'til then, Tatsuki. It'll all be worth it, mark my words.

In the dark, she could detect the sound of heavy footfalls. And Arisawa resumed her chant.

'_Kill…'_

Right foot.

'…_Kanonji.'_

Left foot.

* * *

><p>"I'm coming with you."<p>

Kon glanced up from his preparations. Behind the screen, he could see Karin silhouetted with her arms crossed and assuming what even in shadow-play was a very impressive stance. Too bad all that determination would have to go to waste.

"Sure you are. Because I'm the dumbest guy alive, right?" He bent to continue tying on his shoes.

"I'd like to know how you plan to stop me."

How about if I tie you up and lock you in a closet, smart girl? It felt so good just to think it. For once the unhealthy kinkiness aspect did not result in self-castigation. There were more important things on his mind.

"Karin…"

There! All set. With that Kon rose and moved around the dressing screen in his room. The girl had followed him in here, undeterred by his threats that she was about to see him naked. Apparently Karin was still too young to find this sort of thing inappropriate. Now she took up step behind the agent of the afterlife as he left the room, a single raised eyebrow being her only response at his getup.

"Why won't you at least wait for Ichi-nii? He'll be here soon! Him and Nanao, and maybe even..."

"Because I don't have to anymore."

It felt good to say it. And a little scary too. Whether anyone else recognized it or not, this was the chance he had been waiting for. An opportunity to put his newfound persona to the test. And also to measure the strength of his own convictions. Kon had resolved to take every opportunity life had to offer. That meant accepting all the responsibility that was a consequence of being a bona-fide living person. He had the strength, the capabilities, and a lot to make up for. Kon was going to save those kids even if it killed him.

Maybe that would show Nee-san just how deep his resolve would go.

Michiru and Mahana should already be waiting in the Usagi Shoten's secret cellar. Both had agreed to help Ganju run the shop while the other employees were busy. At first the big galoot was insistent on accompanying him, claiming that his Shiba magic and spiritual strength would be of great help. Kon politely refused. Ganju then pointed out that he did not know where he was going or what the layout of Hueco Mundo might be, to which he had countered that neither did Ganju. This might have gone on longer, but Kon was anxious not to have his thunder stolen. So when the Shiba shop attendant had just been preparing to go get his own gear ready, he clandestinely whispered in his ear that should Ganju insist on abandoning the earthly duties assigned to him by his clan, then the head of that clan was going to hear about it.

There was something rather disheartening at seeing a noble member of one of Soul Society's Five Great Families go white as a sheet and start gabbling like a storm-flung hen.

But a win was a win, and Kon accepted his with only the smallest trace of misgivings. He assuaged his guilt by enticing the shrunken soul with the knowledge that he would have three cute girls helping him run the store, of which he would be the senior assistant in charge for a change! Ganju's spirits improved noticeably then, though he remained troubled by this whole prospect. Couldn't blame him. It had taken some desperate convincing to allow this affair to proceed as planned. Noboru was nowhere to be found; probably training with his foul-tempered mentor in Soul Society. But Ururu was on board (her possible opinion as to the foolhardiness of this venture went unvoiced) and so the deed was done.

Which left him with one last knot to tie up.

"I've fought Hollows before," his self-appointed shadow insisted as they made their way to the back rooms of the store. "And the others are already in trouble, so why should I stay out? I'm no more important than they are!"

"Now you're just being stupid," he shot in rejoinder. Entering one room in particular, Kon grasped a rope handle set into the floorboards and pulled up. Bright yellow light bathed their faces. The hatch rose to reveal a subterranean stronghold whose existence would have shocked the shop's regular customers.

"I want to help."

This admission gave Kon pause, and he turned to study her. Karin's head was down. Her shoes were shifting restlessly, fists clenching and unclenching as if in search of a target to strike out at. A thought occurred to him. Maybe she's not just being stubborn and self-assured? I think the kid's actually… worried about me!

At this she looked up at him and whispered angrily, "Why won't anybody let me help?"

Oh. So that's it. Funny I didn't pick up on it before. Especially since it's a topic I'm intimately familiar with. Karin didn't want to sit by helplessly while someone she cared for went off into certain danger. She didn't want to be useless. Now that is something I can understand.

"It's only because of you that I even know where I'll be going, _imoto-chan._ That's better than nothing. Plus if I have my way, you'll never even get _near _any danger for as long as you live. You're welcome, by the way."

With that he smiled fondly, patting her lank little head. Naturally she smacked his hand away and drew back to deliver a more solid blow to his gut.

"Let me be the hero just one time. Okay, Karin?"

That finally stopped her. She was a smart girl, and he could tell by the way she regarded him now that she had probably figured him out. Not hard; his motivations could easily be described as transparent.

"Fine," the angry adolescent scowled, thrusting both hands into her pockets and stomping past him to start down the stairs. "Hurry up and go if you're going. Rukia and the shinigami will probably have rescued them by the time you show up anyway."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Grinning, he quickly picked her up in his arms, and before she could so much as yell, Kon shot into the pit.

There was no time to spend admiring the scenery even below his current velocity. This barren rock garden Urahara had created held only the appeal that anything broken here would not be missed. Moving at unheard of speeds, the mod and his charge ground to a halt before two looming rock mesas in under a second. Between these pillars stretched a large wooden column. The tiny form of Ururu was visible perched atop this beam. Don Kanonji sat crestfallen between Michiru and Mahana, with a frowning Ganju crouched large at his back. The teens had dressed in some yukata that were kept on hand for those friends of the owner wanting to hang out and keep the store's vibe. In this case, though, the outfits were their uniforms for later.

Kon stopped before Kanonji and settled his charge gently on her feet. He got off with only a punch to the stomach that he gladly accepted. Rising upright, the leader of this band of misfits gave a nod to his fellow artificial soul. High off the ground, Ururu saw and began to chant. "In my right hand, the stone that connects two worlds. In my left…"

Ganju Shiba grunted something under his breath, twisting his palm against the earth as he did. The ground beneath Karin abruptly rose up to encase her feet in shackles of stone. She glowered down at this display of sorcery but did not move. Her guardian was satisfied. No chance of her getting sucked in now. Or following afterwards, I might add.

"Prepare yourself, mystic," Shiba grunted.

Their de facto benefactor gave a morose nod and gripped his magic cane. His preclusion from anything resembling battle or indeed conversation seemed to have rendered Kanonji more broken up than usual. This was the only role in their plan he was permitted. Not even shop duties would follow.

With that, the Don of the Undead waved his wand over the sour-faced girl standing with feet shackled before him. "Evil Su-piritsu…"

"You'd better come back safe," Karin growled without bothering to look at Kon. He kept his own eyes fixed on what was transpiring above.

"Whatever you say. Just… tell Ichigo to get the lead out when he arrives."

"…I strike the ibis when the clouds gather…"

Energy flared overhead, followed by a noise like an old gramophone needle being dragged across a vinyl record. At this signal, Don Kanonji slammed the butt of his stick to earth.

"… BEGONE!"

Once again a globe of green energy emerged, now encasing Karin. And just like before, a swarm of gray bats came bursting out of her. This time, however, there was no panic on their part. As Kon had half hoped, half predicted, the Harvesters sped as one towards the portal to Hueco Mundo which Ururu just finished opening. They _were _from there!

The mod soul felt his heart race from fear and exhilaration. This is it! I'm on my way! With a final look around at them, he grinned and leapt into the Garganta.

"Take care of each other!" Kon cried, and then all thought was bent on pursuing the Harvesters.

* * *

><p>Upon spotting her approach, Neliel flung both arms wide and leapt to embrace her with a loud cry of, "Rukia!"<p>

"Hello, Captain Odelschvank," she spoke, muffled slightly by the arrancar's expansive chest. All the same, Rukia submitted to this embrace with due diligence. The co-commander of Siamese Company held a great deal of affection in her, so much one could almost forget she was a Hollow. And the Kuchiki princess reminded herself she had suffered much worse treatment from much less friendly captains in the past. This was a piece of cake.

Of course, none of this explained why Neliel tu Odelschvank was dressed in a Sexy Santa Claus outfit.

The corset was red velvet, clinging to the ex-Espada's every curve as though it could not grip her tight enough. Black buttons on the bodice were stretched to their limit, allowing tantalizing oval glimpses of the bounteous banquet between them. Its white-furred hem stopped scandalously high atop the thighs, granting anyone of a less than advantageous height (present company included) with an uncomfortably personal eyeful. Green and white striped stockings were also skin-tight and ended just above the knee. A broad black belt with a golden clasp encircled her waist, into which she had tucked her zanpakutō. The shirt's bodice was cut so low as to be salacious by any standards. Red gloves with ermine trim were complemented by shiny black shoes and gold buckles. To complete the ensemble, atop her Hollow ibex skull was perched a stocking cap with a small sprig of mistletoe dangling off its tip.

Drawing back to release her slightly, the vivacious Captain Odelschvank took notice of how Rukia's eyes lingered on her hat. "Do you like my outfit? Renji recommended it. He said it's traditional apparel with worldwide appeal!"

"I… must say, few could wear it as well as you, Captain," the little lieutenant spoke stiffly, striving with all her might to present a picture of shinigami respectability to make up for what her superior clearly lacked.

"I can get you one too if you like!" Nell chattered happily. She rounded on the two fracciōn waiting patiently at her beck and call. "Dondochakka, Pesche, would you go rustle up another in her size…?"

"No need, Taicho." Rukia did not miss how some of the already salivating members of Siamese Division gathered around her had actually perked up even further at this prospect. She also took advantage of Neliel's distraction to fix Renji with an absolutely vicious glare. It was meant to serve as a warning that she would soon discuss with him about his behavior regarding their naïve but no less estimable co-captain. Chagrined, the flame-haired rogue's cheeks had gone a shade to match those very locks, and he refused to meet her eye. No doubt to save what little scrap of dignity he might yet lay claim to possess, the unscrupulous dog! "I come in an official capacity on behalf of Ibis Company and Captain Kotetsu. I trust my dispatch about the current situation was received beforehand?"

"Oh yes, Renji informed me about it right away." Around them shinigami patrolled the encampment's perimeter in groups, welcoming back returning units or bidding farewell to the ones on their way out. Those remaining in camp huddled together quietly talking or watching the three high-level spirits converse. As the reigning commander whilst in Hueco Mundo, Neliel was the general now and Renji her subordinate. They depended on her experience and know-how to determine how best to proceed in this world. Ignorance about mortal customs in no way precluded her established seniority in anything involving the world of the Hollows.

"I've already sent notices to Tiger and the Vaizard," the lime-haired lady continued. "They're coordinating with us in our search for the stranded mortals. I've also had an emergency aid station set up, along with making preparations to transport them back to their home dimension once they have been properly quarantined. There hasn't been any contact so far, but our hunting territory is pretty large and will take a while to thoroughly search. The possibility that they wandered into a Hollow-controlled region is low. Unless it's the dead zone. That's a whole new can of worms."

Rukia rubbed the handle of her soul cutter for comfort at this notion. At the same time, a brief sense of unease fell over her. This had been happening frequently since leaving the manor nearly an hour past. It was almost like she was being watched. But there had been scant time to think upon this too closely, and now was no different.

"Ibis will be sending a detachment to aid in treatment and purification within the hour," she responded. Then, in a much softer tone, "Thank you for your help, Captain Odelschvank. I know how terrified those girls must be right now. Their safe return is our highest priority."

"No problem. We're…" Right then Neliel leaned in to the slight death god's neck and inhaled deeply through her nose, causing Rukia to give an uncomfortable shiver. The Hollow heaved a sigh and resumed speaking as if this hadn't happened. "…only too glad to help."

"Ah, Nell…?" Renji took Rukia by the shoulders and guided her a safe distance back. He gave an uneasy smile at the same time. "Maybe we should discuss our course of action. You know, get everybody on the same page?"

"Agreed." The festive fighter moved to lead them both into the pavilion. All three then took up places on cushions arrayed around a low circular table. Neliel swept one hand over its surface, calling up a map of the surrounding area. This image expanded out to include the surrounding terrain of Hueco Mundo. There was little to distinguish it. However, one point in particular was marked by a glowing yellow dot. It was here their attention focused.

"Not to sound a disparaging note," Neliel declared, "but we've been over this stretch of territory repeatedly in the last few months with no sign of any Hollow activity." Pesche came rushing in to deposit a platter of some kind of sliced meats beside her, to which his mistress immediately helped herself. Renji caught Rukia's eye and signaled her not to follow suit. She didn't need anyone to tell her that but silently thanked him all the same before continuing to listen. "It's isolated, to be sure, but if Matsumoto is setting a trap for you, I can think of a lot better places to do it."

Abarai rubbed his pointed chin in restless tension. "We've got independent confirmation that a very large Garganta opened without warning around the vicinity of the Ishida residence in Karakura. Nothing came through, so we didn't know what to make of it at first. Even before the Autumn War, Hollows knew better than to come sniffing around there."

A faint disturbance of her senses caused Rukia to glance around. It faded, and she drew back to the discussion at hand. But at the same time…

"Nanao-san is with Ichigo. They were busy with a training session at the time. It happened so fast, which is why no one on their end could react in time. They're preparing to make the journey to Hueco Mundo together. She's confirmed Karin is safe with Kon at my place, and the seven missing are all members of the KOPS except for her and three others. How do we proceed, then?"

Neliel sketched with her finger on the map, causing red lines and circles to spring up around the point previously indicated. "Our forces in Siamese are deployed in separate concentric segments surrounding Target Alpha. The corridors between these segments will be kept clear of personnel, allowing any Hollows attempting to escape to enter and be set upon from both sides. Once we have secured the area, we'll conduct a thorough sweep to determine if there is a hidden nest and whether the missing humans have been taken captive. If that is the case…"

_Hey, I just felt…_

Yes. I've got it too. Let's hold off for now.

"…then it will probably have to be an underground facility. Would explain why it hasn't been found up until now. They always have escape tunnels, which is why the staging area is so big. Renji will command the reserve unit and pick off any Hollows that might be fleeing. I'll take point for the initial charge once the entrance is determined. After consulting, we both decided not to inform Tiger Company about this part of the procedure. Captain Zaraki and his chipmunk are currently unavailable anyway, but their subordinates still aren't really suited for what might amount to a hostage situation. They're best at all-out carnage. Speaking of which, at least two of the Vaizard will be here within the hour. They'll be directed to the rendezvous and provide a third wave only if absolutely necessary. No offense to our allies, but they can be a little indiscriminate from what I've seen, and rescuing the hostages will require finesse."

The gaily bedecked war leader turned to Rukia. "We head out now. It's up to you where you want to be in this strategy, Lieutenant Kuchiki. I'd be glad to have you along if you're absolutely dead-set on heading in to fight."

She made a show of considering, one fist pressed thoughtfully to her chin. "Actually, if no one objects, I would prefer to stay here and help coordinate the relief efforts for afterwards."

Her best friend's tattooed eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You would?"

_We would?_

Yes.

"Yes," their tiny cohort nodded assuredly. "It would be best to keep one senior officer in reserve for emergency. This search is mainly a question of manpower. You have more than enough to scour the area. One more person, regardless of rank, will hardly make a difference."

The two leaders of Siamese exchanged glances. "Huh," Renji grunted. "Thought for sure you'd be all gung-ho to charge in and find them yourself."

"I will leave such reckless behavior to those more accustomed to it, Abarai-Taicho" she smiled ever so sweetly back at him.

A growl rose from his throat, and his tattoos scrunched together. "Why, you…"

"Well, that's settled." Neliel sprang up and sauntered over to a post where a tattered and somewhat blood-stained cloak was hung. Taking it down, she slung the battle-worn garment over her shoulders. Upon turning around the head of the largest division in Soul Society had assumed the full mantle of her authority. "The operation has now commenced." And then, true to character, she giggled. "I'm so excited! I get to _eat!"_

With that she swept from the tent, already shouting for her bodyguards to make haste. The two remaining shinigami rose up and looked at each other. "Don't worry," Renji supplied quickly. "I'll make sure she sticks to Hollows and doesn't touch any of the kids. Nell can be a little… impulsive."

A fond smile played around Lieutenant Kuchiki's lips. "You seem to have things well in hand. Good luck, Captain Abarai Renji."

He appeared surprised at the compliment, not to mention the note of sincerity evident in it. The red coxcomb clearly rose a little higher even as his chest appeared to swell proudly. "Yeah… I mean… just sit back and I'll show you what Siamese Squad can do!" Flashing an eager grin, he crossed over and swept the flap back, exiting the pavilion and loudly barking orders to his followers at the same time.

For her part, Rukia remained seated.

As I thought. It's waiting for all of us to leave. And I think I can guess why.

Her head dropped down low. Over by the wall, some cloth shifted restlessly, as if disturbed by a breeze. Only if one were to be standing right next to her would they catch what came next. The girl gave a slight sigh, breathing out her words at the same time.

"…udō #9: Geki!"

A red glow flared to her left, followed by a curse. In an instant Rukia leapt up and drew Sode no Shirayuki. What she saw revealed before her now gave the warrior maiden pause, however.

"Hitsugaya-Taicho?"

The boy captain stood only a yard away, her admittedly low level spell already dissolving away from him. Even at full strength, she doubted it could have held a soul of his caliber. All the same, he appeared quite cross at being found out like this.

"Dammit," Tōshirō muttered, emerald eyes narrowed in frustration. "Should have gone in sooner. How the hell did you even notice me?" he demanded.

She sheathed her sword slowly. "Concealment spells like Bakudo #26, _Curved Light_, will be perceived only if the viewer is stronger than the caster, and then only if they are looking directly at their location. It's not much of a weakness considering you're a walking blind spot to begin with. But a less well-known caveat is that the spell actually creates two 'blind spots'; one for each eye. And if you stand too far to one side of a person, they go slightly out of sync, so that the images curving around from behind you on that side are reflected in their other eye, creating a sort of 'reflection.' I have been trained to notice this flaw."

For a while he just glared at her. "I should have known better than to underestimate a student of Momo's when it came to magic," he finally gritted through his teeth.

"So you have been trailing me since I left Kuchiki Manor. Why?"

"You know why." The expression he wore now chilled Rukia's blood. Only the knowledge that his wrath was not directed at her served to dispel any conviction that she was about to die.

"I won't ask how you learned Matsumoto contacted me." She had her suspicions, hell butterflies not being completely inviolable. "By now you've heard most everything. The reason you're still here…" her eyes drifted to the table, "must be because you needed to know where to go next. And Neliel just inputted it on the map."

He strode over to her without responding. A touch of his finger, and the exact coordinates supplied by Rangiku appeared before them.

While his attention was off her she studied this cold and reclusive individual. "Captain, why stay hidden? Why not simply reveal yourself and insist on accompanying us? You have the authority."

"Because we have different goals." Hitsugaya nodded as if satisfied. Then, still concentrating solely on the map, "You may leave me now, Lieutenant Kuchiki."

Her spine stiffened at this dismissal. An involuntary retort was swiftly cut off. Instead the junior officer gave her superior a deep and most proper bow. "As you command, sir."

She departed immediately after. The prince of ice waited until he was certain she had gone, after which he grasped Hyōrinmaru's hilt and withdrew it. Once clear of the sheath, he pulled loose a green cloth secured with a gold medallion which tied the scabbard to his back, allowing it to fall free. Time to retrieve that later. No one would be entering the dual captains' quarters while they were out. A flick of his wrist and the scarf unwound to far greater lengths, twining back to enwrap him in its depths. As the teleportation charm activated, Hitsugaya concentrated on precisely where he wanted to go.

A moment later the tent was empty, and he was standing on a barren expanse of rock and sand. He looked at the terrain, then down at his feet.

"Where shall we begin searching, Taicho?"

An explosive curse, and he whipped around to find Rukia Kuchiki standing sedately behind him.

"HOW…?"

"Bakudo #26,_"_ She responded primly and properly without the slightest hint of derision. One short eyebrow rose a fraction. "The best way to counteract those weaknesses I previously mentioned is to stay out of the target's field of vision completely. Easy when you're invisible. You were probably standing at my back before, which is why it took me so long to notice anything. I took a cue and did the same."

_Careful, girl. He looks ready to cut your head off and claim mutiny later. _

I believe we can expect at least a modicum of self-control from one of the most advanced shinigami in existence.

_And I believe his teeth will break if he keeps clenching them that hard._

The object of their opposing viewpoints had mastered himself enough to speak by now. "I told you to…!"

"You told me to leave, but there was no mention of me not coming back."

Rukia felt certain that had he not already been used to this sort of insubordination from his former lieutenant, her career might be in peril. Must remember to thank Matsumoto for that should we actually meet.

"I admittedly deceived Renji and Neliel as to my motivations earlier," she continued as he was still attempting to process the current level of thwarted anger. "I wanted to know who was spying on us, and now that I do, the situation appears most fortuitous. A small strike force consisting of two well-trained people could ascertain the location of the mortals more quickly than a full-scale military expedition."

"I already told you I'm not here to rescue anybody!" he retorted, so angry that snowflakes were beginning to form around them from his increasing levels of reiatsu. "This is a personal matter that doesn't involve anyone else!"

"Actually, it does." She locked eyes with him, deepest blue clashing with sharpest emerald. "There is one part of Matsumoto's message I did not impart to anyone else. One of my employees from the Usagi Shoten is with her. I don't know how he managed to accomplish this, but it doesn't matter. His life is in danger no matter how you look at it. And his safety is my responsibility. We are going to find the two of them together, and I will make sure he is safe from any threat."

Her own reiatsu was allowed to rise then, not in any foolhardy attempt to match his own, but enough to let him feel her resolve. "You can imprison me with a spell if you choose, but know that if you do so, then my employee's safety will become _your_ responsibility as a result. Do what you will only if you are prepared to accept that burden… Captain."

The two shinigami stood there in the middle of a wasteland, a light breeze causing their white and black robes to flap ever so slightly. The moon shone down on their confrontation. Neither of them moved or spoke for a time.

_You seem to have an issue with headstrong women in your life._

I was just thinking the same thing, Hyōrinmaru.

"I don't have time to argue," he stated aloud. "Let's just try not to get in each other's way."

She nodded, face set and defiant. "Agreed. Now, where shall we begin our search?"

Off in the distance, a huge explosion of rock and sand erupted into the night sky.

"There," Hitsugaya stated, and took off. Rukia followed close behind.

* * *

><p>"I'm positive. They came down somewhere here," Misato declared as she stamped her foot.<p>

"Whatever you say, madam," Makizō Aramaki replied, rubbing his hands and smiling with all the conviction of a professional suck-up. The woman crossed her arms and pinned him with a slight frown that still somehow managed to make his insides quail.

"Don't think I can't smell insincerity. I'm a high school teacher; half my job is figuring out when somebody is lying to me. Now granted, some of those kids are pretty darned clever. Little buggers, if 'Prevarication' were part of the curriculum, I'm sure _that_ they'd ace. But still I…"

She then appeared to completely lose interest in even finishing her own sentence and began stomping around again, leaving slight indentations in the surface of the desert to mark her path. The hijacked shinigami stood hunched over slightly as the only observer to such a weird display.

Eventually this frightening young woman drew to a halt with head bowed and hands on hips. "We were there." A twist of her head indicated a dune far back on the horizon. "And we saw the bats all descend… right… _here." _She then jabbed a most implacable finger earthwards. "There is not a doubt in my mind that this is so. Am I right?"

"You are," he insisted. "Most definitely, madam."

_Right about what? What are we talking about?_

Makizō chose not to respond, long used as he was to his zanpakutō's idiocies.

"Well?"

Her back was turned, but the question was clearly directed at him. "Well… what…?" Makizō stammered, confused.

"_DO SOMETHING!" _

He jumped at this shout. A second later she had her hands fisted in his tunic and was glaring up into his face with cold chilling purpose. By contrast her voice now sounded very casual, almost conversational._ "_Use your magic, draw your sword, do a little dance. I'm not particular about how. Just make whatever is down there open up so we can get in."

"M-m-madam, I don't… that is to s-s-s-say, I'm not…"

His tongue failed him at last, and he could only stare in sweat-stained misery at his own meager reflection in her glasses. It occurred to him this diabolical creature might be a relation to former lieutenant Nanao Ise. They certainly looked alike, and that woman in particular had an unusually high ability to transform him into a puddle of damp fear with just a look. Perhaps if he offered her money she would let him live?

"Fine."

Eh?

Misato released him and turned away. She drew several paces off and knelt down, rolling up her pants to remove something that was seemingly strapped to her ankles. Afterwards she began rummaging around in her pockets, muttering and seemingly unconcerned with his continued existence. As he had been doing a lot during their time together, the craven drunkard took this opportunity to dispatch a hell butterfly with his latest update. The woman took no more notice of this than she had the others. Her new task seemed to be taking up all her attention, involving as it did moving around in odd patterns and holding something aloft.

_Is that booze she's pouring on the ground? Can we have some? Go and ask her._

Actually, he was somewhat curious about this display himself. Taking a few cautions steps closer, Aramaki managed out, "Ah…"

"Don't step on that," she called back, indicating at his feet. He looked down but saw little that made sense. Just something that resembled lines of liquid silver glowing in the moonlight. Was she making a sand painting or something?

"Madam, if I may… be so bold… what exactly are you doing?"

Ochi waved a negligent hand, the other holding a collection of small gleaming sticks and tubes. "Oh, just something I picked up from Darling."

_Who's Darling? Are we Darling? C'mon, why won't you answer me?_

"Yes." The chipper damsel was now happily engrossed in pouring out the contents of those vials in odd patterns over the sand. "He kept them lying around, and I kept asking what they were for, and he kept refusing to tell me, so I kept on asking. Naturally we're so devoted to one another that he couldn't keep anything from me for long. Once I got the gist of it, I asked Uryū-kun for a demonstration. He showed me in exchange for a free meal. But he didn't realize I was recording him on my cell phone, or that I had already borrowed these things from his father. I've been practicing getting it to work on my own, and I think I've finally developed a functioning substitute."

At last she drew to a halt and stepped back to examine her handiwork. Limned over the ground in lines like fine spiderwebs was a great pentagonal symbol of some kind. Silver shafts were all driven into the five spokes.

"I'd get out of there if I were you, shinigami."

_Huh?_

Not one to question like his soul cutter, Makizō quickly complied. Moments later they were both standing near one of the spokes. Misato held up a final gleaming flask.

"I didn't want to use this right away, but I guess there's no choice." She sighed and threw an accusing look his way, clear indication that whatever had gone wrong, it was all his fault.

With that she upended the contents of the tube onto the silver stake.

"Okay." Misato turned around. "Now _run!" _So saying, she bolted away at top speed.

Once more her henchman did not question. He simply dashed off in hot pursuit. Wonder how long we have before… ?

At his back, the world exploded.

Blue fire leapt high in a bonfire so bright that it lit the bone-white surroundings with its aura. The shockwave lifted Makizō off his feet, sending him flying past Ochi, who had already hunkered down with hands cradling her head.

He hit the ground moments later. For a while, the stalwart man of Tiger company was content to simply lie there. And hurt. And smoke. And burn. It dawned upon him that his moustache was on fire at the tips. Reaching up, he assuredly snuffed them out with his fingers, then went back to quietly basking in the pain.

A few seconds later, somebody had hoisted him up to a sitting position, and through much struggling and heated exhortation, Aramaki Makizō finally stumbled to his feet. He was then marched at an unsteady pace back the way he came (flew, to be more precise). The smoke had mostly dissipated. At last the two of them stood at the edge of a newly made sinkhole some fifty yards across. Pale sand cascaded down its sides in torrents, forcing them to constantly adjust their footing or risk sliding in. They examined this bit of geographic remodeling together, her blandly interested, him still wobbly and wondering if that ringing in his ears was permanent.

"Lot bigger than I expected," the public school teacher threw out offhandedly. "I certainly hope nobody I know was hurt in that blast, otherwise the school board might revoke my license to teach."

He nodded, only somewhat registering her words.

She pointed. "Hey. See there? That's a tunnel in the side, isn't it?"

He looked where indicated. Sure enough, their demolition project had unearthed a previously hidden bore hole. Visible elsewhere were several other shafts, all clearly not made by nature and certainly not the result of the explosion.

"All right, I guess we should just pick one. Hmmm…" The architect of this devastation regarded her handiwork with a critical air. Then she leveled a triumphant finger at one exposed cave in particular. "That one right there." So resolved, she trooped around the edge of the crater with Makizō shambling in mindless obedience behind her. Once they came to the desired spot Ochi stopped to consider. "Now how do we get down there safely? Jumping doesn't seem an option."

"Bakudo #18: _Stair of Starlight."_

It was a testament to his durability that even this low-level spell managed to bear fruit. Before them there appeared several transparent planes that descended in a curve until they reached the open tunnel. They looked a little unstable, but solid enough to do the trick.

"Well, hey, you're finally proving your worth, fella," the mistress of pain declared and patted him not unkindly on the shoulder. She then proceeded to troop down the glimmering staircase. Aramaki did not hesitate to follow. His thinking process was simply too blasted to really have an opinion on how smart an idea this might really be.

* * *

><p>Being slung around in near total darkness had allowed Tatsuki's other senses to sharpen as a result of her blindness. At times it sounded like they went by people who were engaged in sweeping the floor, of all things. She could pick out whispered conversations that grew more distinct and then receded, indicating that they were probably passing other Hollows massed throughout this dungeon. Their tones held a distinct note of stress and uncertainty, far more than she would have expected from bloodthirsty monsters. Just what the hell were they all doing down here, anyway? It certainly didn't seem like they were amassing for an invasion, which had been her first thought. The atmosphere in this place felt almost claustrophobic. It was as if they were trapped down here.<p>

The girl had long since given up trying to memorize their route. There were simply too many twists and turns to keep it all straight. It would take a miracle to get back to where they left Orihime. Much to her relief, she and Chizuru had not been separated. There was a certain measure of comfort in knowing that were they to die, at least it would be in each other's company.

Of course, there was a fairly long line of people she'd rather spend her final moments with, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

There was no way to tell how long their journey lasted. It came as a surprise, however, when they finally drew to a halt. There came the sound of a door opening with a low rumble. The process took a while, and in this time she subtly attempted to determine whether or not her body was getting back to normal. It felt as though the muscles might be trying to respond to her commands… maybe.

To Tatsuki's shock, it was her eyes that suddenly started working again. There was light somewhere nearby. Not much, but enough to see by. It enabled her to dart a few quick peeks around. She was held in the crook of someone's arm. Someone big. There were four others of similar make, bulky misshapen beasts boasting masks that marked them instantly as Hollows. Chizuru Honshō dangled over the shoulder of one of these. As far as she could tell, the redhead was still alive and in one piece. The reason for this might be about to come clear.

Two of the figures in their party stood out for the simple fact that they looked human. Both were female, short and slender, wearing white clothes that further marked them as different from the naked brutes with whom they traveled. Each had a sort of bone eye patch covering one eye. Their most distinguishing characteristic was their hair; short and blonde for one, long black pigtails the other. Otherwise they were pretty much the same. She guessed these must be Loly and Menoly.

The hunting party moved forward past a tremendous door that had a detailed carving of a skull etched into its surface. This new chamber was no mere tunnel. It sounded huge, judging by the way their footfalls echoed. Weird lights like will-o-the-wisps glowed around its perimeter. Arisawa craned her head with utmost caution, trying to get a better view of the place as they moved further into the room.

"I gave you lot three strands to follow!" a woman's voice snapped angrily. "What became of the third?"

"This is all we could get," Loly replied, holding out a hand that looked to be empty. "Your third turned out to be Orihime Inoue. She shielded herself in time and there was no way to get to her. Azmuth died trying. We decided it was best to return with those we had captured rather than risk winding up totally empty-handed."

None of the remaining Hollows saw fit to speak out against what they all knew were lies. Whether the listener believed her proved a moot point anyway. "I will not bandy excuses with the likes of you, _filth!" _A slender hand snatched something out of Loly's palm. "Keep the unused two will return at once and apprehend the escapee. Should you die in the process, consider yourselves fortunate! We must have all of them if we are to ensure the rejuvenation's success. Now GO!"

Tatsuki still couldn't see who was speaking, but she caught the looks of fierce disdain Loly and Menoly now wore. It looked like they were both getting ready to throw caution to the wind and attack their abuser. In response, there came a liquid rumbling growl, and the sound of something _big _lumbering closer. Both Hollow women drew back at this clear threat.

"Yes, Lagrima," Menoly spit in acid distaste. The duo's anger had been replaced by fear, so that seconds later saw them quickly retreating back the way they came.

"Berrinholtz. Take them up."

At this command, Tatsuki found herself handed off along with Chizuru to a Hollow that proved even larger than the hulks who held them before. It must have stood around twenty feet tall by her guess. Its claws were long in the manner of moles for both hands and feet, with short spikes sticking out all along its massive hide. This one just _felt _stronger than all the rest. Still, the thing exercised care in holding them. Once more it became clear that they were being kept alive for a reason. What that reason may be could prove worse than death, though.

"The rest of you may leave. Rejoin the others and find out what is taking them so long."

The pack obeyed this order with even greater alacrity than had Loly and Menoly. Her shift in handlers allowed Tatsuki to get a look at the one called Lagrima. This Hollow proved to be partially human in appearance, tall and dressed in a toga with long milky hair and a mask that sported only different sizes of holes. Her appearance in no way imbued the same sense of brute strength as the one called Berrinholtz, and yet clearly this slender female was the one in charge of the rat's maze in which they lay. She cradled a large urn in the crook of one arm and had what resembled a harp strapped to her back.

None of this could hold the paralyzed teen's interest for long, because it quickly became apparent that the ruler of this sunken burrow was standing at the edge of a pool filled with blood.

Even with the light being so dim, there was no denying it for what it was. She could smell it, even like this. When the door leading into this cavern had closed, Lagrima carefully placed the urn on the floor before sinking to her knees. She faced the pool with the harp now in her lap and plucked one string. The note it produced echoed almost sweetly to their ears.

For several minutes there was nothing. In that time, Tatsuki was pathetically pleased to feel one of her toes move ever so slightly.

Her relief at this triumph did not last.

What happened next guaranteed her nightmares forever should she survive. The surface of the lake began to froth in a nauseating fashion, at which point something rose from its depths. Not emerging; it was more as if the blood itself lurched up to greet them, fashioning itself into the torso of a great loathsome demon whose skeletal form was made of sluggishly moving gore. Its crimson skull was held in both hands, and it fixed eyes bright with hunger and malice upon them all.

"**Ah," **the embodiment of horror chuckled. **"So this is why you see fit to call upon Us without Our leave."**

The way it spoke made her ears hurt and flesh crawl. Of all the revolting, insane things that had happened in her life, this was the one that had Tatsuki Arisawa seriously wishing none of this spirit business could be real. What in her normal everyday life could possibly make sense when something like _that_ lurked just around a corner, waiting to destroy anything remotely resembling a safe happy world?

Meanwhile, Berrinholtze had dropped to one knee. Lagrima was abasing herself in full form, prostrate on the floor with arms outstretched as though to worship some god. "Your Highness," she whispered in fervent devotion, "An unexpected harvest has come our way. I know not how, but the vessels have all been transported here, to Hueco Mundo!"

"**What is this?"** her hideous deity growled. It lurched forward, causing waves to lap against the edge of the pit. Those unnatural eyes fixed upon the girls in a way that was almost curious, before quickly darting back to Lagrima. **"And you had no part in this, We suppose? No inkling was given that such a thing might be planning to occur?"**

"Many harvesters returned at the same time, but that is all. I swear it to be so, in Your name." The worshipper shivered where she lay. Tatsuki couldn't blame her, really. Things had gotten ugly for everyone concerned, whether dead or not.

"**Yes. Of course. Our faith is well placed in you."** The fleshless titan observed them all in turn, finally settling on Chizuru. That severed skull twisted somewhat in its own bony grip so that it appeared as though it had cocked its head. It gurgled out nasty pink bubbles, as if in a sigh. **"Lagrima."**

She started up. "Highness?"

"**Have you determined when and how this chattel might have come in contact with all four of us?"**

His servant managed to sink even lower to the floor. "As You mentioned before, the dark-haired one was present during that first scouting mission to the human world, as too the big male, and Inoue Orihime. That would explain how she became a vessel. But the one with red hair was not, and we cannot say for certain how she or any of the others were blessed."

"**Nine. Nine humans with our taint on their souls. Yet only three whose origin we can precisely pinpoint. How did they survive these encounters? When did they meet them? When did they meet Us? And why do We not remember this?"**

As it spoke the monster planted one hand on the stone floor and stretched out the other which held its head. Tatsuki quickly fixed her eyes downwards, hoping that Chizuru would do the same so as not to give away the fact they might be starting to come around. All the same, she could feel prickles of dread traveling instinctively up her spine, letting her know that she had fallen under the attention of something monumentally fatal. She had to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering.

"**Neither of you, it seems,"** that sepulchral voice mused over their heads. **"But at least one among you did. How is it… that We did not eat you, then?"**

Don't let me pass out, she prayed. I don't want to die like a coward. At least let me know it's coming!

Even as she thought this, the feeling of imminent death withdrew.

"**It matters not, We suppose." **That besmirched bone turned to regard its idolater once more. **"You have them now. And your intentions are clear. Take them to him, and see that he is well fed. Keep them alive until he no longer needs them. This is Our will. Obey, and flourish."**

"It shall be done, Your Grace."

With that, the demon god slipped back into its fount, disappearing without a trace. The pool now appeared as calm and foul as it had been when they first entered.

Lagrima stood. She collected the jug which she cradled like a child to her breast before looking at her bulky bodyguard. "Bring them." So saying, she led them towards a tunnel gouged in the wall.

This experience had actually done Tatsuki a great deal of good. For starters, she had renewed her determination not to die. If she could survive a meeting with whatever that had been, then nothing less should have the right to do her in. Secondly, now that she thought about it, Lagrima had mentioned they were the only ones captured so far. Which meant her friends were still on the loose. How long this would last was anyone's guess, but still, cause for hope. Help might even be on the way right now.

And finally, most important of all…

Slung under the huge Hollow's arm, her fingers stiffly curled into a fist.

I can fight again.

* * *

><p>Four members of Siamese Company held watch at their assigned position. It was uneventful work, and held markedly little chance of seeing any action. Still, they remained attentive to their surroundings so as not to miss an opportunity to impress the top brass.<p>

Scanning the horizon, one of them squinted. "Hey," she nudged her partner. "You see that?"

The man looked where indicated. "What? I don't see…"

His vigilant ally then felt a hand grab her butt.

"HEY!" she yelled, rounding on him furiously.

The next thing both shinigami registered was a sonic boom that threw them off their feet. Bewildered, they looked at one another uncomprehendingly.

None of them noticed Kon already speeding off into the distance, grinning at his accomplishment. If he could cop a feel on a shinigami and get away before anyone even noticed him, then this body really was up to snuff. Satisfied, he then returned to scanning the flight of the bats. Was it his imagination, or were they starting to come down? Better hit the accelerator just to be safe. Moments later, he was shooting across the desert of Hueco Mundo so fast his footprints barely disturbed the dry soil.

* * *

><p>If I just stop moving, maybe she won't notice I'm gone? Makizō discarded this prospect almost immediately. He did not want to be left alone down here, wherever here may be.<p>

This cave system was immense from what he could make out. There were branches leading off in every direction. Ochi had taken the lead again, using another one of those magic tubes to light their way. Where did she keep getting those? More importantly, the light might serve to attract the attention of whatever lived down here, in which case, they would probably die. The only worse prospect would be to have no light at all. Then they would die in the dark. How did she even know which direction to take?

Mustering up his courage, he finally decided to ask. "Do you know where we're going?"

"No."

I do. To our deaths.

_I'm having fun. _

No you're not. I'm not, so you're not.

_No girl's stuck around us this long in a long, long time. It's fun. Don't you think it's fun?_

Actually, I think I'm starting to grow more comfortable with the idea of being a lifelong bachelor.

_Tell her you like her._

No! Why would I do that?

_Grab her, Makizō._

WHAT? What for?

_HOLLOWS!_

Before he could think twice the Tenth Seat sprang forward and grabbed Misato around the waist, leaping backwards even as she gave a surprised exclamation. The glowing stick dropped from her hand. As it hit the ground, a masked demon the size of a small car leapt from the shadows to pounce upon this light source. Several more came into view behind it.

"There it is!" one of them shouted.

"Be sure to take her alive," another growled. "The shinigami can die."

Aramaki had heard enough. It was time to leave. More of them were on the way, without a doubt. He turned and sprinted back the way they came. Draped over his shoulder, the human was pounding on his back with her fists and kicking him indignantly, but he did not let go. She could abuse him as much as she wanted once they were safe. That much he could live with.

A small bobbing light globe he conjured served to illuminate their way now. Unfortunately, this was the only comfort to be found. Because before he knew it, they were completely lost. Even more than they had been before. That passage up to the right, should he take it? The sound of snarling and slithering alerted him this was not the safest course. So he continued on into the next one. Why wasn't he getting a good feel for the Hollows' souls? It was like they were covered up. Only his zanpakutō's senses had noticed their approach, and that at the last second. Just have to hope my luck holds out.

True to form, it didn't. Because shortly afterwards he found himself facing a dead end.

Noises back down the way alerted him to their approaching peril. Spinning around, Makizō cried out, "B-Bakudō #... 81! D-Dankū?!"

His desperation was evident in using such a high-class spell. What was even more apparent was that he couldn't pull it off. The barrier did appear to block the tunnel, but it flickered and bent in a way that indicated weak casting. Shadowy figures appeared at the mouth of the trap, hissing and growling upon finding their prey cornered. They began to slowly advance, as though they wanted to savor this moment.

_Makizō?_

Yeah?

_It's time._

I was afraid you'd say that.

His decision had been made. Swallowing resolutely, the lone fighter deposited Misato on her feet. Immediately he thrust one hand into his robes and emerged with the gourd of booze from earlier. He concentrated, muttering a certain spell with much more confidence and assurance than he had the defensive one. This was something he knew down to a tee.

"Excuse me, are you about to get drunk? Cuz if so I'd like some of that."

He ignored her. Fangs and claws were now ripping into the Dankü. He could feel it crumbling already. His will was about to cave under the pressure of all this day's fears as well as life's staggering disappointments. But at the same time, his spirits soared as he felt the flask grow warm in his hands. Yes! Salvation!

With that Makizō Aramaki threw back his head and began to slam down the kidō-mixed drink.

"Seriously, I don't think…"

He whipped up one finger to prevent her from speaking, never ceasing to chug. The precious juice sloshed down his throat, burning and warming him at the same time. Already his cheeks were turning red, nostrils flaring, eyes rolling up into his head. I feel… the _power!_

Makizō Aramaki. Coward, bootlicker, and fool. Every shinigami knew these things to be true. The man was charitably described as a stooge. They laughed about him openly. But some of the more intelligent ones also posed a question: if Aramaki was such a useless dolt, then how was it he had managed to get into the Tenth Division, which was reserved for the most battle-hardy aggressively violent maniacs of their race? Those in the know speculated he was sent there as punishment for some indiscretion. That sort of thing happened every now and then.

They couldn't be more wrong. In fact, whether Aramaki himself realized it or not, his assignment to the Tenth had been a reward. Because he could not hold his liquor. Give him a drink and he was tipsy after just a few swigs. It actually served to clear his head, making him more perceptive and, strangely enough, a better man overall. Maybe because he wasn't thinking so hard about trying to please people.

But give him a kidō-mixed drink…

"REYAAAAARRRRGH!"

The flask was flung against the ground. A zanpakutō leapt from its scabbard, and Misato Ochi heard an unfamiliar voice scream, _"SAVAGE, INU NO MURE!"_

Spiritual energy exploded like hounds let off the leash. She fell on her rear and regarded the figure standing before her with awe. An unholy red radiance washed over his body. His shoulders were hunched, legs bent as if in preparation to spring. That lumpy face had actually transformed into something impressive, or rather, downright frightening. Teeth bared, eyes flung wide, moustache standing out in points, her toady shinigami had become a war machine.

Her admiration lessened slightly when she noticed he was holding what looked like a key chain in his hand.

That was the term which best described it. From his clenched fist where once a fine katana had been now dangled a short chain. The mass of keys at its end all resembled weirdly shaped blades. They clinked against one another, no two alike, some with curves, others boasting serrated edges, a few that simply qualified as hooks, and many that resembled no weapon she had ever seen. The only thing they all shared was teeny-tiny size.

Right then, Makizō drew back his arm and whipped his puny weapon forward with a scream.

It elongated. No, wait… it _enlarged! _The whole thing grew along its length, links getting thicker as it went out, key-blades growing vaster and infinitely more dangerous. Now it was the length of a flail, then a spiked morning star, and after that it became an industrial crane's hook. A veritable armory of sharpened steel tore down the tunnel, smashing through the protective wall like it wasn't even there. The Hollows clustered behind it fared no better as that cannonball of swords blasted through their ranks, tearing them to shreds. There was no space to dodge or hide in these cloistered confines. Blood flew everywhere. The splattered pieces of their corpses hit the ground, dissolving even as they did into butterflies that disappeared so fast it was like they had been traumatized.

Amazed, the children's educator found that her estimation of this man had risen considerably in the last few seconds. His soul cutter retracted back into his grip, once more at trinket dimensions. Its owner looked down at her with blazing cheeks and slightly loopy eyes.

"C'MON, BABY!" he ordered, and gestured towards the exit.

Misato rose and dusted herself off with a smile. "Lead the way, good sir."

* * *

><p>Tatsuki stood before a corpse.<p>

They were in a mausoleum, one that reminded her of Italian catacombs from ages past whose pictures they had seen in History class. Shards of skulls and pieces of bone lurked in crevices dug out of the walls. The only illumination came from two black tapers whose wicks sputtered like they were in the act of dying out.

This feeble light served to reveal the body reclining at the end of the grave shaft. Laid out in a private sepulcher, it had the shape of a human, though fairly tall. Nothing more could be discerned, as it was covered in a gray shroud which prevented any great detail from showing through. It did not breathe. It did not move.

And yet somehow, she realized this thing was alive.

Lagrima had bent down near the body. She whispered to it in a low voice. Berrinholtz remained behind her, still holding on to both girls in his great paws. The undead priestess opened the jug she carried and brought it up to its mouth.

As she tilted it, the cloth stirred.

_No._

She paused, then drew the urn back. Its head moved, almost painfully slow, looking past her. Unseen eyes lingered for a while on Chizuru, before transferring over to Tatsuki.

_Her,_ it croaked.

Lagrima looked at Berrinholtz and gave a nod. In response the behemoth stalked forward. His mistress stepped aside to allow him room. The two captives now got a better look at what lay under the shroud. It resembled something that had been burned down to ash but still retained its shape. Even the slightest movement sent crumbling flakes sliding off its skin. Whatever was animating this, only a supreme act of will could keep something so fragile from simply falling apart. Death clearly hovered eagerly over this figure with every breath.

So this is what they've been saving us for, Tatsuki realized. The next thing she knew, Berrinholtz had lifted her up. She now hovered over the corpse's face. In this position, their eyes met briefly. With it came a weird sense of recognition.

Then she was brought down lower, and a mouth latched onto her throat.

Her head snapped back. All traces of lethargy seemed burned away at this violation. She sought to break free, but Berrinholtz's grip was iron. He would not let go. Arms pinned to her sides, legs flailing helplessly, Tatsuki could feel that ghastly maw sucking at her neck. It was hungry, but gentle, like a timid lover seeing how far he could go. That made the experience all the more horrific. Its mouth was cold, and this sensation traveled throughout her whole body, leeching away all warmth as the vampire drew something essential out of her and into itself.

Lagrima had caught her by the hair to prevent her from struggling. The girl's teeth were clenched, breath exploding in and out of her nose in rage. She snarled and gnashed like a mad thing. At no time in her life had she ever felt so humiliated, so completely demeaned, as right now. A red haze of fury settled over her vision. The urge to hurt them was so great she could not even speak. And still it suckled tenderly at her skin, teasing and tickling her with its weak wispy caresses. Get off of me, you fucking animal, damn you to _hell!_ I'll kill you I'll kill you I'll kill _kill KILL __**KILL!**_

From the depths of her soul, Tatsuki wrenched her head downward with all the strength she could lay claim to at this time. She felt hair rip loose from her skull, and then she was free!

Before anyone could stop her, the deranged young woman gave an inhuman snarl and sank her teeth into the vampire's throat.

A choked scream sounded in her ear, the loudest noise this thing had made yet. No longer did its loathsome mouth invade her. Exhilarated, she bit down harder even as a taste like charcoal on her tongue threatened to suffocate her. Still it uttered weak breathless cries. That's right, bastard, she exulted as she sought to chew its head off. Do you like that?! Do you want some more of what I can give?! HERE, TAKE IT ALL!

She was pulled off at last, dragging away the shroud and half the vampire's neck with it. Lagrima shrieked in fury as she attempted to pour a glowing blue liquid from the jug into the damaged monster's mouth. Got you! Their rebellious sacrifice gazed eagerly at her handiwork with the cowl still clenched between her jaws. She would have gladly ripped them all to shreds and feasted on their putrid undead flesh.

As she thought this, Berrinoltz opened his mouth and placed her head inside. She could see what looked like another smaller mouth inside the pitch black void. From what sounded like very far away, Chizuru screamed her name.

Go ahead. I'll bite your tongue off, at the very least.

_No._

Everyone stopped moving.

_Mine._

The dusty lich remained flat on its back. It lacked even the strength to move, let alone rise. Yet still when it spoke, its voice made them all halt, as though some angel of death had whispered in their ears ever so softly.

_Mine. They… are mine. I need them… alive._

That declaration apparently used up all its strength, for the ghoul spoke no more. Shivering, Lagrima stood staring down at it. Her whole body showed how repellent she thought this thing to truly be.

After a time, she cursed softly under her breath. The priestess unslung her harp. She plucked two strings, one black, one red. As the notes sounded, a surge of intense pain tore through Tatsuki's whole body. Every nerve lit up at once. It felt like her skin had been stripped off to expose what lay underneath. As swiftly as it started, the torment passed, leaving her once again unable to move and dangling like a dead fish from Berrinholtz's claws.

"There," Lagrima declared, satisfied. "They will cause us no more trouble. Use the other one this time." She indicated where Chizuru hung. "Perhaps there is less fight in it."

Berrinholtz dropped Tatsuki. She hit the ground like a bag of garbage and just lay there. It felt good to know that she had managed to strike out against their captors. But at the same time, her anger flared hot when she saw Chizuru about to be put through the same degradation as she had. And there was nothing either of them could do to stop it.

Without warning, there came a low boom, and the ground shuddered beneath her. At the same time, a string on Lagrima's harp snapped with a loud twang.

Startled, the Hollow peered down at her instrument. "What is this?" she rasped, nerves frayed and obviously teetering on the brink of collapse. "What is this, I don't understand, what is going on?!" Her head whipped around accusingly at all of them before returning to study the damage. Pale fingers lifted the limp strand, rubbing it experimentally. Then she let it go with a gasp.

"My dream catchers. Someone… someone has destroyed all my _dream catchers!"_

Her empty eye holes rose to train on Tatsuki. She took a step forward, and one trembling hand rose to hover over the same black string as before. "You…" the furious seneschal gasped. "This is… all your doing! All a trap! You brought them here, didn't you?! Whoever this is, you led them right _to us, didn't you?!"_

The harp sung its tune, and once more the girl's body was awash in agony. Only this time it sounded again and again, so that Tatsuki writhed in dreadful torment that did not recede in the slightest, until finally, she simply passed out.

Lagrima clutched the harp to her chest, gaze darting wildly between the ash vampire, her urn, and the two prisoners. "Cannot… cannot leave," she mumbled to herself. "We cannot leave him like this, but he will not survive the move! His Holiness… forbids it. We must… we must stay. We must fight!"

Her head jerked up, and now a new string was plucked. The sound it made was deep and low, like a bell tolling somewhere far in the distance. As it did, Berrinholtz gave a violent tremble.

"Go now," the murderous musician hissed. "Whoever is responsible for this, be it shinigami or traitor, find them and kill them! Kill any who dare to invade our domain!"

The huge bear skull slowly nodded. Her champion dropped Chizuru to the floor before turning to plod down the tunnel. Moments later he had vanished into the darkness ahead.

Shuddering, all alone, Lagrima sank to the stone. And there, she began to sob. His Holiness must be informed of this. He would be wroth with her, she knew it. Her weakness, her unsuitably, would be made plain. Just as it had before, when the Jackal's vile silver-haired servant had broken her, forced her to betray all the trusts He had placed in her. The other servants all suspected it had been her, she was certain of it. They never trusted her again, nor Lagrima them. Everything she ever valued had been taken away… by shinigami!

And now they had come for her life.

Rising, the grieving servant hobbled away to summon her god and receive his fury once again.

* * *

><p><em>Gather ye rosebuds while ye may Your head will soon be flying/ You know not where its course may lay/ But who cares? You'll be dying._

A swing of his arm, and more Hollows were purified into ribbons, giving up all their grief and remorse under the bite of his soul cutter. Inu no Mure's steel song rang in counterpoint to the verses he composed, and Makizō laughed wildly upon hearing them both.

_Since I could not stop for Death, he kindly stopped for me/ We shared a drink, our blades did sink into your anatomy._

There was very little going on in his head now. He knew only that battle was upon him, and he welcomed it. In addition, there was a woman he had to protect. That was something new. She hunkered down by his feet, clutching his leg as he swung his multi-pronged death implement round and round this large cavern where he had chosen to make his stand. Inu no Mure's screaming blades cleared a space around them in ever increasing arcs. Sometimes high, sometimes low. Like jump rope! Around the world, here we go, see if you can keep from getting hit! Some shot their Ceros at him, which he swatted aside or gleefully dodged to let them go arcing by and explode into the Hollows swarming at his back. Nice shooting, morons!

This was the sort of mania which made Aramaki the man he was today. Formerly a member of the Thirteenth division, he had joined the Gotei 13 eager to make a very comfortable living for himself. And for a while there, everything seemed good. He had a nice house, the food in the Seireitei was excellent, and his comrades were occasionally willing to have him tag along whenever they went out to drink. His prospects looked good.

Then one night, some rowdies from the Eleventh came bursting into their division, led by a red-haired galoot with tattoos for eyebrows. A party started soon afterwards, one which would go down in division history for sheer amount of injuries and property damage. Makizō found himself a member of these revelries, much to his delight. He drank, he ate, he enjoyed himself.

Late in the evening, someone handed him a kidō-mixed drink, and he was off.

A militant splinter faction of this wild party eventually detached itself to go in search of more liquor. Aramaki was at the head of this mob. Leaving chaos in their wake, they made their way to a bar in the 42nd ring of the Rukongai, where they proceeded to level the surrounding area. Residents evacuated en masse. The flames could be seen from the walls of the Seireitei. By then, the Mustache King, as he had crowned himself, was engaging in a spirited game of 'You Chop Me, I Chop You' with his new friends from the Eleventh.

Five minutes later, Captain Zaraki Kenpachi wandered into the bar in search of a good time. Seeing only another target, Makizō hauled off and delivered his mess of blades full straight into the big man's head.

When they fell away, Zaraki's lip was bleeding. And he was smiling.

Two months later, the Mustache King awoke in a hospital wing of the Fourth Division inside a full body cast with only the memory of that god-awful smile still clear in his head. The medics informed him that he had been transferred to the Eleventh as a result of his actions that night. What he and they did not realize was that this had occurred as the result of an actual formal petition from Captain Zaraki, one of only two he had ever made in his career. He got Lieutenant Nanao Ise to help him with the paperwork to make absolutely sure everything was official. And so, with no clear understanding of why, Makizō Aramaki was welcomed into the happy-go-lucky Squad Eleven. After that, drinking became necessary for his survival. And so he was always prepared.

Getting back to the present, after fighting for an indeterminate length of time, the blood ceased to flow. Aramaki kept swinging his death dealer for a while until this fact finally presented itself to him. Panting, he retracted Inu no Mure to give himself a chance to figure out where to aim next.

The answer came quickly. The Hollows were retreating into tunnels, casting fearful looks back at him. The reason for this came squeezing out of another passage. A Huge Hollow, by the look of it. Big sucker, too, all spikes and claws. It had the skull of a bear, and the sight of this made him grin.

"Gonna make me a bearskin RUG, boy!" he boasted gleefully. "Drink brandy by the fire on you!"

At this, the Hollow opened its mouth and roared. Its huge mitts came up, and they began to spin like two drills. As they did so, sparks shot out of its joints, and even its eyes and mouth. In moments the looming monstrosity had transformed into a blazing dynamo, and the whole thing came charging right at him.

_For as surely as the rain doth fall/ Your blood will splash upon the wall…_

Makizō let Inu no Mure loose. The bladed warhead ballooned up and smashed right into his new adversary. To his frustration, this attack in no way blunted its momentum. The beast came on.

Aramaki quickly snatched up his woman and flash-stepped aside just in the nick of time. Bear-boy blazed on by them, impacting against the wall in a huge detonation of yellow energy. That entire part of the cavern came down in an avalanche of rock. The night sky was visible through a crack in the ceiling. Fuzzy Wuzzy shot out of this mess before the dust could even settle, streaking along the floor to come up short, standing there stock-still watching him.

Makizō snarled in readiness for its next attack. Looks like I'm gonna have to give it my all! He looked blearily over at his girl. "Hey," he hiccupped, and coughed. "While I'm… keepin' him busy, I want you to… climb…" He gestured over towards the sloping hill of detritus. "Climb the stairs… all the way to the stars… 'n get outta here. Got it?"

The hottie looked at him and smiled. "Only if you die," she promised. That's my girl, all the way! Now ready to go, he flash-stepped to the center of the remaining clear stretch of ground. Tearing open the front of his robe, the buzzed berserker slapped his chest and bellowed to get the enemy's attention.

_Pray ask not why your hour is nigh/ The bell doth toll, give up your soul…_

Once more the Electric Bugaboo began to spark like a Roman candle, so bright it made stars dance before his eyes. This time, however, it chose to stalk towards him, drawing steadily closer and leaving streaks of light trailing behind it. In response he grasped Inu no Mure by the chain with his free hand and began to swing him up and down, faster and faster, letting him grow out to a goodly length 'til he raked the floor with each revolution. A red aura flared around both his body and weapon as he unleashed the very depths of what his soul had to offer. Aw, hell, yeah! Bigger than life! I got you, ugly! I got you good!

The Flare Bear started to pick up speed. Looks like he wants to get in close before charging this time. Okay, Honey Badger, let's see you come back from this!

Twenty yards away, the flaming Hollow suddenly barreled towards him, great piston feet smashing the floor to fragments. "I AM THE MUSTACHE KING!" Makizō shouted, dizzy and proud, before dashing forward to let his ultimate attack fly.

_I do daresay that come what may/ I'm NOT in a giving VEIN THIS DAY!_

They met head-on in a collision of red and yellow that swiftly became orange. For a few moments this was all that could be seen, a miniature sun which lit every corner of this secluded underworld. Then the ball slowly started to dwindle, shrinking down with ever-increasing speed, until at last it resolved into two shadowy figures at the heart of that incandescence.

When it winked out completely, Makizō Aramaki was down on his knees before his opponent, a length of broken chain held out defensively before him. The rest of Inu no Mure lay in shattered pieces on the ground. The brute Hollow rumbled its pleasure. For his part, the shinigami took pride in simply having survived. He looked up into its dead black sockets with a smile. From the corner of one eye, Misato was visible edging over towards the only means of freedom available. Atta girl. No, wait… she's picking up a piece of rock. Aw, c'mon, I went to all the trouble of giving you a way out! Don't just go and…

The stone went sailing through the air to strike the Hollow on the snout. Its head turned slightly to take in the human glaring defiantly.

"HELP!" she sang with what sounded like very little concern while bending to pick up another fragment. "If anybody can hear me, we need some HEEELP!"

The brutish victor considered her for a moment. Its pointed ears seemed to twitch. Then it turned back to Aramaki. Great fang-filled jaws opened, and both claws raised overhead. A rock bounced off again, but this time it did not pause. Stupid girl, go on, run! The opening in the roof was still an option. He could see the stars glimmering through it. They twinkled so prettily. With his vision still blurry, it almost looked like snow was falling through the hole.

_Hey. That is snow._

Stupid. It doesn't snow in the desert.

As he was thinking this, Berrinholtz's claws swept down to behead him.

There was no pain. Only a sharp clanging sound and a very strong sense of… cold.

Makizō blinked, eyes coming back into focus. Before him, his would-be executioner had somehow failed to complete its strike. The explanation for why became obvious. Two swords crossed together held back the blows from falling upon him. The Hollow's arms shook, claws scraping against those sharp edges, and it gave a dark growl at finding itself so balked.

In turn, Aramaki's rescuers spoke at the same time.

"_Tensō Jūrin!"_

"_Hakuren!"_

Following this there was a white burst of spiritual combination. For a while snow and mist veiled his vision. When it cleared, the monster had been frozen solid, trapped in the very moment of its triumph. But something far more important than simple survival was becoming evident to his wine-heavy senses. Namely, one of those people standing to either side of him had on a white _haori_, while the other wore a wooden badge on her arm.

Every last trace of alcohol was swept from his system in a subservient flash. "Hitsugaya-Taicho! Kuchiki-fukutaicho! How wonderful to be in your presence! Thank you for saving me just now! How may I be of service to you?"

Even on his knees, both these people were still at eye level to him. All the same, to Aramaki's imagination, the pair towered over his huddled form in their splendor and overwhelmingly superior rank.

Lieutenant Kuchiki lifted her chin in regal disdain. "Are you from Siamese, then…?"

"Hi, Rukia-chan!" Misato waved. The icy warriors regarded her as she hopped briskly over to join them. "That was a nice save there. Are you here to rescue us? Good. You get a passing grade this semester."

The noblewoman's face took on a shade of confusion. "Ochi-sensei, I am no longer one of your students." A cheerful shrug was the only response she got back, and Rukia made an obvious effort to get back to business. "Never mind. Can you tell us where the other missing students are right now?"

"No idea. We haven't seen any of them since I got here. But don't worry, they're not dead." The woman took off her glasses and rubbed both eyes tiredly. "At least I wouldn't think so. I heard one of these Hollows say earlier they wanted to take me alive, so it's probably the same with the kids. Stands to reason, right?"

Replacing the lenses on her face, she once more assumed that chipper grin which was somewhat unnerving considering their current situation, before turning to Captain Hitsugaya. "You're a captain, I take it."

"I am…"

"But you look ten years old. That makes it hard to take you seriously. I just want to mother you. C'mon, gimme a hug." And she held out her arms, beckoning him in cheerfully as though this suggestion were the most natural thing in the world.

A vein was starting to twitch in the snowy prodigy's temple. His frigid gaze turned back to Aramaki. "You…"

The lickspittle scrambled upright and stood stiffly at attention. "Aramaki Makizō, Tenth Seat, Eleventh… I mean _Tiger _Division, sir!"

"You will take this… _woman_… back the way we came and get her to safety. Siamese Company has this area surrounded," Captain Hitsugaya declared while fingering his blade in a most intimidating manner. "Inform Captain Odelschvank of our position and confirm there are Hollows down here."

"And be sure to stress that we can't feel their reiatsu," Rukia added.

"Yessir. And ma'am. Absolutely right away. And if I might say…"

Both top-tier commanders leveled identical frigid glares at him.

"You know, maybe it _is_ time we were going." Laughing shrilly, Aramaki jogged over and swept up Misato in his arms. "Let's leave them to it, eh?" And so saying, he sped across the cave, up the landslide and out the cavern roof like his life (and more importantly his career) depended on it.

Rukia glanced sidelong at her companion. "I thought you were only concerned about Matsumoto?" she questioned him.

"I am." The boy genius then began to twirl the heavy sickle attached to his sword by a chain. "But it seems there's something down here worth cleaning up as well." So saying, he swung the gleaming crescent moon and beheaded the frozen Hollow. Its great skull crashed to earth. They watched it roll back and forth before coming to rest. The captain scowled. "This thing was pretty tough, and yet it had no spiritual signature I could detect."

"I've been in a situation like this once before." Rukia's face had grown grim as old memories resurfaced. "A large group of shinigami entering enemy territory, only to find they can't sense their enemies' reiatsu." She looked over at Tōshirō. "We cannot allow a repeat of the Hollow Bog incident."

"I've read the reports," he mused. "They might be using those '_sombras'_ to hide their presence from us same as during the War. But if their leader is the one responsible for it like back in the Bog, we need to find and destroy it as soon as possible. Otherwise our men will be going in blind."

"At least we know if the humans are here, they're still alive. Assuming what Ochi-sensei said was true." She drew in a deep breath and let it out with a sigh before examining their surroundings. "So where shall we go from here? We can't just assume another lucky break is going to show us the right way."

At that moment, a hell butterfly dropped down to land on her head.

'_Hey, ba-san! It's me. I'm still with Madame Jiggles, in case you're worried, but she said that the location of that spell we're tracking has moved. Sneaked a peak at the new coordinates on her phone; here's what it said. We're underground, by the way. Get down here quick, you're missing all the fun!'_

"Never mind," Rukia frowned irritably. "They're this way."

* * *

><p>"<strong>You have failed Us."<strong>

Lagrima's head hung low like a whipped dog's. "Yes, My Lord," she murmured dully.

"**The invalid's safety is of paramount importance. And you allow enemies to enter this domain while he is still incapacitated? It would seem Our decision to rely on your abilities was an error in judgment."**

The abeyant _adjuchas_ did not dare even look at Him now, so ashamed did she feel. "What would You have me do, Highness?"

"**Do? Surely that is a jest. You can do nothing. Your forces are inadequate." **A sloshing, splattering sound reached her ears. **"Too much is at stake here to risk further failures. If some rebel riffraff would profane Our works, then they shall greet death at the hands of the King of Hueco Mundo. And let those who look upon their ends be warned."**

A hoof made of blood struck the ground near her. Looking up, Lagrima found her master had risen completely from the depths. The dullahan, Barragan Luisenbarn, walked among them once more. He took a few slow steps to allow the blood which comprised His avatar to stabilize, and then moved past her astride His bony steed with head clenched in both hands. A long red tail grew from the end of the horse component that kept Him connected to the scrying pool. This was necessary to maintain His presence in this world.

The way must be cleared for Him, she realized. Energized at the chance to walk with her lord and king again, Lagrima raced to the door and flung it open. Outside a mass of her Hollow followers clustered in agitation. "Make way!" she cried angrily. "Make way for your king!"

They did so, slinking fearfully back as the mighty vasto lorde rode out. Moans and wails of adulation escaped their masks. The great Barragan paused to give them a chance to bask in his fearsome countenance.

As He was about to step forward, however, the Master paused. His head moved from side to side warily, as if sensing something out of place. His mount pawed the ground restlessly.

Lagrima came up to his side. "Does something offend You, Majesty?"

He remained silent for a short while. **"No. It is nothing." **He did not sound certain of himself, however. As if sensing these treasonous thoughts, eyes crafted of blood dropped to regard her. **"Locate Berrinholtz. The rest of you, go forth and apprehend the remaining vessels. Destroy any other trespassers you find. Make certain a watch is kept upon Our sanctuary whilst We are occupied elsewhere."**

"It shall be done," his despondent worshipper intoned as He trotted past her down the hall. Although she knew nothing could harm Him, still Lagrima silently prayed for His safe return. His last command returned to her thoughts. She then noticed three masked Hollows standing back against the wall. They looked powerful, enough to cause her to doubt approaching them for an instinctive dread that they might fall upon her with all their terrible might. Would the king stop them if they did? She was no longer sure anymore.

"You three," she indicated the trio. "Remain here and guard the master's chambers until He returns."

The two on either side glanced at their partner in the center, a female, who said nothing. Then the left-hand Hollow sketched a courtly bow. "With goodwill, O Mistress," he sneered unnervingly.

The tone of his voice made Lagrima once again fear for her safety. Rather than run the risk of angering them, she strove to hide these cowardly inclinations and hastily walked away in pursuit of her duties.

All three Hollows watched her go. The one on the right leaned out and craned his neck to get a better view until she had passed from sight.

"Well, wasn't that bizarre?" Keigo Asano said, and clicked his teeth.

**To be continued…**


	7. Chapter 7

"Mizuiro!" Keigo hissed. "What are you doing?! Don't touch that!"

Crouching by the liquid red pipe that stretched before them, his fearless friend spared the panicky teen a disapproving glance. "Yes, thank you, Asano-san. I'm not stupid." Afterwards he returned to inspecting this occult specimen. "Weird. It seems, for all intents and purposes, to be living blood." Mizuiro gave an experimental sniff before drawing back and crossing his arms thoughtfully. "Yup, even smells like it. I wonder if this is the result of the main body bleeding, or if it's a Hollow that's completely composed of blood? Reminds me of some old myths my grandfather used to tell me."

"Supposedly the first god, Izanagi, slew his youngest son after his mother Izanami died in childbirth," Kunieda Ryō offered from her place leaning against the wall. "His blood then formed numerous other gods or dragons, depending on the translation. Maybe this is something similar; divine blood that produces deities."

"Well, they were all worshipping it," the charming lothario mused.

Keigo Asano looked between the two of them in disbelief. "Why are you guys so relaxed? How do you even know this _thing…"_ he pointed wildly at the scarlet ribbon, "…can't hear us talking right now?"

"Because we'd be dead if that were true." Mizuiro bent down even closer and squinted one eye shut to follow along the bloodline's course back into the darkened chamber behind them. "Whatever the case, I think it's safe to assume this is some kind of artery keeping the creature we saw earlier alive." He rose up, dusting off his knees in the process. "Or undead, as it were."

"They did say a guard was necessary." The willowy female slowly turned her head to gaze introspectively at the half-open portal. "That means whatever is in there right now requires protection. It's vulnerable."

Keigo stared in dismay at his schoolmates as they casually discussed this situation with as much dispassion as though their lives weren't on the line. Was he the only one who appreciated how dangerous it really was? He had never really liked all this spirit business to begin with. Fiends lurking around every corner, alongside threatening men with shaved heads who barged into your home and got your already nightmarish sister even more worked up than usual. When would it all end?

Probably when I least suspect it.

Things had actually gotten steadily worse since he first came to this dimension. For starters, Keigo had arrived out of whatever magic portal brought them here head first. This left him buried up to his armpits in sand. Had Mizuiro Owajima not been there to haul him out, he might have suffocated. Which was only mildly more preferable to finding himself in the middle of nowhere. Even now, it felt like he still had twenty pounds of sand in each shoe.

No explanation was forthcoming as to where they were, much less how they got there. Their cell phones didn't work, which hadn't been the case when they were trapped in Soul Society. He had previously postulated that this might have been because some cell towers existed in Karakura when the city got relocated to the afterlife, which allowed local transmissions to still take place even without any satellites. But that wasn't the case here. Instead, it hadn't taken them long to come to the conclusion that they were currently in Hueco Mundo.

"We should wait here," Keigo had first insisted. Mizuiro agreed, and so the two of them shared one another's company squatted on a dune. Everything looked the same in whatever direction you might choose.

After three minutes, Owajima stood up with a declaration of, "Well, that's that," and started walking.

"Hold on, wait, Mizuiro! Someone will come along and get us, I'm sure of it!"

"That's what I'm afraid of," Mizuiro replied. Then, with an easy acceptance that always left the other teen both agitated and envious, he proceeded across the desert. After shouting at his departing back for a while, Asano determined that the only thing worse than being lost in Sandy Hell was being alone in it. For this reason he quickly followed the shorter boy, and they continued slogging through the dry landscape in search of a gas station or a payphone.

About five minutes in, while Keigo was unsuccessfully attempting to knock sand out of his ears, he took one step forward and realized that his foot was sinking in a lot more than he had grown accustomed to. While this fact was still registering, he was already falling forward, sliding into the dry sea with as little resistance as slipping into a public pool. Too shocked to even flail and scream as was his regular wont, it was perhaps owing to this that he did not wind up swallowing another sand-wich of sorts. Instead his speed increased, and the next thing he knew, the perplexed teenager landed hard on what felt like a mound of more sand.

A river of the stuff was still pouring down on him, so that at first he tried to struggle out from under it. Light came from overhead in sufficient quantity to allow him to determine that he had fallen into a pit. Of course, it was strange to think that he hadn't noticed any indication of this sand trap while walking towards it. One would think there might have been some warning that the ground disappeared up ahead. Which could indicate that the pit hadn't existed until he stepped over it.

While coming to this conclusion, a clawed hand grabbed Keigo by the shirt and yanked him back to tuck under one brawny arm.

"All right. Get the other one," a low voice hissed.

"MIZU-!"

Before he could scream a warning to his friend, something smooth and wiggly thrust into his mouth, silencing him. By then the bunch that grabbed him had moved away from the hole in the ceiling, plunging everything into darkness. Keigo didn't bother struggling. He wasn't sure what was going on, but clearly it didn't bode well for them.

This was borne out when a few seconds later there was another rush of noise, and in the moonlight shaft that followed he could see a pair of familiar legs kicking ineffectively to extricate themselves from the small hill. A few moments later Mizuiro had also been apprehended.

"Hurry up and plug the ceiling, Damcyan," something rasped in an ugly voice.

"Should we take them back now?" one of their captors asked. "Who's going to clean this mess up? Lagrima will be furious if we leave it."

"Somebody else. The last one's close. We might lose it if we stay to sweep. Let's just get all three now and not bother with return trips."

They moved into the light, continuing down what turned out to be a tunnel. And in that brief moment before everything went dark again, Keigo saw that they were being held by Hollows.

He didn't bother resisting much after that. The helpless teen didn't know what was going on, and he didn't want to. This was just something out of the ordinary. If he survived it, that would be great. He could get back to the things that mattered: school, video games, girls, hanging out. That he could deal with. This weird stuff… he wasn't equipped for it. So why did it keep happening to him? He couldn't turn into a shinigami or shoot lasers out of his hair. It just wasn't fair that he be singled out like this. Best to let the really exceptional people like Ichigo and Orihime handle all the supernatural business. That made much more sense.

As the pack moved on through the pitch-black environs, Asano idly wondered who else was going to join them down here. This lot had mentioned a third person. Would it be Orihime, or Don Kanonji? Either one might prove more than the monsters could handle. Actually, not so much the Don, he couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. And who could blame him?

Well, I guess I could. Kinda his fault I'm in this fix. But we'll find out soon enough who's next.

"It's coming this way. Moving kinda fast."

"Will it cross the tunnels?"

"Of course it will, there are routes all over the desert! We just have to find the right spot to set the trap. Move, before it passes us by!"

There was the sound of running after that, and several turns. The creatures panted and swore as they raced towards some location. Eventually, though, their flight ceased.

"Okay, it's heading straight for us now. Damcyan! Make the pit already, curse you!"

"Don't throw orders at me! I know what I'm doing!"

A rumbling shook the tunnel then, and soon after there came a soft hissing sound that reminded Keigo of sand running through an hourglass. There was no point trying to warn whoever was headed towards them. Even if he could shout, they wouldn't hear him all the way down here. Just had to hope whoever it turned out to be packed the whallop that Keigo and most other people he knew lacked.

Abruptly the hissing increased into a downpour, and just like before the ceiling opened up to allow him to see what was going on ahead, just as someone fell through the roof with a short scream.

To his dismay, coughing and flailing on her back before them lay Kunieda Ryō. So much for saviors, Asano thought glumly.

Even as his hope of rescue died, one of the Hollows was lunging forward to snatch up their latest prey. While disoriented by the fall, Kunieda must have still seen it coming, for she quickly rolled off the mound and turned to make a run for it. But even their school track star wasn't fast enough to escape the gruesome spirit. As she took off, talons snapped out and caught hold of the back of her shirt. With an angry shout, the girl planted her foot and drove forward in a desperate attempt to free herself. So great was her effort that the fabric tore to shreds through the monster's claws, and for a brief moment she was bounding forth free.

Unfortunately, the force of this escape proved Kunieda's downfall. Her shoe slammed into the yielding sand and slid out from under her, sending their classmate pitching to one side in a heap. Keigo heard the thing growl as it approached her, and watched it loom over the fallen scholar.

Right then, the beast stopped. It gave a violent start and sprang back to land in a crouch.

For a while no one moved. Keigo now had an unobstructed view of the scene before him. Ryō hadn't budged an inch. The back of her shirt was in tatters. And beneath it, there was something unexpected showing through. Red, and purple, such that he thought the Hollow must have slashed her open. But there was no blood on her shirt. Before he could make anything out clearly, Kunieda Ryō turned and looked at them. As she did, the Hollow quailed backwards.

"N… no!" the one holding Keigo gasped. "We didn't… we thought you were…!"

While it whimpered, the girl's black eyes narrowed in on Asano, seeming to notice him for the first time. She then stood slowly up, and made a curt gesture. "Drop him."

A second later the astonished high school junior hit the ground even as whatever appendage had been gagging him left his mouth. Taking a grateful lungful of air, he immediately remembered the situation he was in and scuttled out of the way to crouch fearfully against a wall.

Kunieda had risen to her full height. She looked, if anything, very annoyed. Like someone had bothered her in the middle of reading a really good chapter in a book. And now, she was going to deal with that uncouth someone. Woe betide their souls.

"What do you think you're doing?" she growled.

"Lagrima sent us!" One of the Hollows had sunk down with its belly low to the floor, looking like a chastised dog in the process. It shifted backward and forward nervously, a beetle trying to figure out which way to run to escape a swooping bird. "She said we were to collect the vessels, not… we didn't know anyone was up there! We just followed the strands she gave us, we already found two, the last one was supposed to be up there!"

The one speaking indicated the Hollow that had held Asano before, as well as another back behind them. Right then Keigo spied Mizuiro, held by this newly exposed ghost. "Hey, Mizuiro!" he cried, too relieved to think about how stupid it was to draw anyone's attention back to his existence. And as one could easily imagine, this got everybody looking at him. At seeing the wrath darkening Kunieda's face, Asano seriously found himself wondering who he was more scared of at this current time.

"Don't talk," the long-limbed athlete declared in a voice that brooked no dissent. Her classmate nodded rapidly to indicate his heartfelt willingness to shut up for the foreseeable future. Satisfied, her attention then moved to Mizuiro and his holder. "Give me that."

Once again, they obeyed. And for the first time it dawned upon Keigo just how strange these proceedings really were. What the hell was going on? Why hadn't the Hollows killed them? Why were they taking orders from Ryō, of all people? Was this some kind of magic?

"Greatness," one Hollow suddenly asked, flinching when she leveled an unpleasant look at it. "If I may… ?" The girl's frown darkened, and while the beast quailed, it still managed to hiss out, "We're not supposed to leave the tunnels. It's the rules… not supposed to… so why were you…?"

"Obviously, she was hunting the last of us."

All heads turned now to Mizuiro, who had settled down with his back against the wall and arms resting on his upraised knees. He looked from one masked face to another, smiling. "Probably just about to catch 'em, too, if you idiots hadn't come blundering along and dropped her down here. I can't imagine Lagrima will be pleased when she hears about this."

What was he_ doing?!_ Keigo wanted to ask, but that previous compunction against speaking still lay upon him. Instead he just felt all the blood draining from his face, and his teeth started to chatter. Did Mizuiro actually think they were going to buy a word that came out of his mouth?

"_Forgive us!"_

Huh?

"We did not mean to interrupt your hunt, great one!"

What the…?

"Damcyan made the pit, blame him!"

"Damn you, Ulserus, I only did what you told me to!"

You know what? Screw it. I'll just accept everything that happens from now on.

"SHUT _UP_, ALL OF YOU!" Kunieda suddenly barked, causing the groveling Hollows to lapse into silence. Her voice then descended into a deep, wintery chill that made Keigo glad she was not addressing him. "You have ruined my hunt, so be glad I don't exterminate the lot of you. Go back to Lagrima and inform her of your stupidity, I can't be bothered to deal with you fools right now. As recompense, I'll take these humans you've already recovered."

The one who might have been their leader glanced about at his fellows uncertainly. "But what about the last one? It should still be close by, we might yet…"

It then looked down at its hand. The great white mask tilted slightly to the side, as if confused. "What… ? The strand… it's saying…"

Before it could finish, Ryō took three quick steps forward and lashed out, seeming to slap its open palm. The Hollow yelped and scuttled back, cringing in obvious terror, its previous resistance evidently forgotten.

"I said _leave!"_

This time there was no hesitation. The whole pack just turned and rushed into the darkened tunnel behind them. In a few seconds even the heavy sound of their footfalls had receded away, leaving the three humans alone together.

Through the light coming from the hole overhead, Keigo watched Kunieda peer at something she held in her palm, then with a disinterested shrug she stuffed whatever it was in her pocket and looked at each boy in turn. "C'mon," she indicated with a jerk of her head. "Let's get moving."

"Who are you?"

Both Mizuiro and the person who looked like Ryō gazed at him now like he was a simpleton, but Asano wasn't about to back down. One too many weird things had transpired for him to lapse back into passive acceptance just yet. That would require some answers first. So once again he directed his attention to the normally icy yet still very human girl across from him. "Are you really Kunieda-san? Because otherwise…" and here he took a deep breath to pluck up his nerve, "I'm not going anywhere with you, and neither is Mizuiro."

"Speak for yourself, Asano-san," his friend drawled glibly. "And Kunieda-san, what's that under your shirt?"

He indicated towards her back. Unable to see what he was referring to, Keigo did not fail to notice how their seeming schoolmate flinched and hastily turned away. She then thrust out a hand towards Keigo and demanded, "Give me your jacket!" in a tone that had him scrambling to untie the accessory from around his waist and lob it towards her. Ryō caught it with one hand and swiftly donned their school colors. Now visibly more relaxed, she declared without preamble, "I've got powers now too. Like Orihime and Chad. Follow me and I'll explain."

They did. Mizuiro revealed some Quincy artifact he had 'borrowed' from the Ishida home during one of their previous visits that served as a sort of lamp. This allowed them to proceed through the black tunnels. There was no talk of trying to make it back out the hole. Even if they stood on each other's shoulders, it was only enough for one to reach the edge, and the idea of abandoning anybody did not merit discussion.

In this time, Ryō explained a few things to them. Apparently a few months after their return from Soul Society, while walking alone to school one day she had found herself accosted by a Hollow. While nothing along the level of what they experienced during the war, even this lone scavenger could have quickly sealed the girl's fate. So as it sprang up growling before her, Kunieda had already turned and run for all she was worth. For some reason it didn't give chase. As she escaped, the girl could hear the monster behind her screaming.

Oddly enough, Ryō could have sworn she heard it shout, "_Please don't kill me!" _

This only dawned on her several blocks later when she stopped to see if she was being followed. Perhaps a shinigami had shown up at just the right time? Or maybe Uryū could be thanked for her rescue. Whatever the case, she chocked it up to good fortune and went back home.

A few weeks later, something else unusual happened. Ryō was with five other girls from the Bonyari High track team on their morning run. She was keeping a deliberately slow pace so as to not outdistance the group, when another Hollow rose from within a creek beside them. This one was bigger than the last, and significantly more menacing, as supernatural horrors went. It raised multiple suckered appendages towards the group of striving athletes, none of whom other than Ryō noticed their peril, but before she could draw breath to shout a warning…

The beast paused, and shook its head perplexedly. It lowered its tentacles. By this point Kunieda had passed it by along with the rest. She stared uncertainly at the Hollow, which seemed to be just as confused as herself. One of the other girls noticed her peering back at the diminishing monster and gave her a questioning look.

In response she turned her attention to the road ahead of them. Their daily routine was completed with a few of the usual catcalls from local guys. But no Hollow attacks. And it got her thinking…

Right around this point in the story, the trio came out onto another tunnel filled with Hollows.

Maybe the boys were still too enthralled by Kunieda's tale to really respond appropriately to this development. Whatever the case, it worked out to their benefit… kind of. One of the creatures who noticed them gave a little jump, and the humans' unofficial leader immediately cut off her tale and grabbed both their hands before she barked, "Where are you going?!"

It bobbed a nervous obeisance. "To His Highness' chamber! Lagrima's orders!"

She gave a quick jerk of her head. "Keep moving!"

Whether it was intended for the boys or the Hollows made little difference. They all obeyed. As a result the three humans found themselves walking on the edge of a gang of spiritual marauders as they trundled through the cave system.

Never in his wildest dreams had Keigo 'Palmprint' Asano imagined he would find himself holding hands and walking with Kunieda 'Armor-piercing' Ryō, to say nothing of the whole trapped-in-another-dimension-with-vicious-monsters angle. It was hard to say which was scarier. But he was smart enough to recognize where his own best interests lay. Mizuiro didn't appear troubled by either development.

"Kunieda-san?" Asano's voice made a mouse squeak seem robust. "What's… going on?"

"We're going to follow the crowd," she supplied under her breath. "If this Lagrima sent out more hunting parties, they'll converge together with their catch. That means any of our comrades they've captured will be there. We'll rescue them and make our way out."

"That settles that." Mizuiro beamed with indefatigable cheer and unquestioning faith. "Can you get back to how we're still alive?"

"I call it 'Intimidation'." Still holding hands, Ryō continued her story as they proceeded along the tunnels. The Hollows either gave them a good deal of space or failed to look at them altogether. "It works along the principles of social peril, the kind that exists in group hierarchy dynamics for all mammals; if you're perceived as intimidating, others treat you with fear and respect, and conversely anyone far beneath you isn't worth your attention."

Mizuiro and Asano glanced at each other as though wondering if the other teen believed this explanation. Kunieda didn't bother looking at them to see what they believed.

"After that second time I sought out a Hollow intentionally. It took me a while, since they're so rare nowadays, assuming they were more prevalent before when none of us could see them. I know it was dangerous, but this time I came prepared. A few family members were nearby with a car ready if I had to get away. Still, something told me it wouldn't be needed. And I was right. When I got close, and the Hollow noticed me, it turned tail and disappeared. There were a few other arranged encounters, also under controlled circumstances, but every time the result was the same. Either the Hollows got scared, or they seemed to lose interest in me altogether. Like I went right off their radar. Eventually I got some of the jittery ones to let slip enough that I figured out what was happening."

"As far as I can tell, there's some sort of field I'm producing that affects hostile spiritual entities in my vicinity. If the attacker is a weak-willed one, my power makes them believe that I'm actually a greater threat than themselves, so it perceives me to be something frightening. A bigger Hollow, or a shinigami captain; anything along those lines. But if the enemy is strong of spirit, my power compensates in the opposite direction, by convincing it I'm so weak that I'm beneath its notice. As a result, I just seem to disappear, along with any indication I was there to begin with. They don't see or respond to me anymore. I can extend this effect to cloak those physically near me if I concentrate, just as one person's social influence can enhance that of their hangers-on."

They encountered no further incidents of note during this recitation. The group continued on its way, following passages down which other Hollows crouched or scampered; in some instances Keigo could have sworn he saw them sweeping the floors like cleaning crews, but they always passed too quickly for him to confirm these odd sights. In a short while their entourage arrived at its destination. Hollows were clustering down the length of a tunnel that ended at two huge stone doors which bore the images of skulls. The three of them stayed on the perimeter of this gathering until the blood god made its appearance, after which the one whom Keigo guessed must be Lagrima deputized them to guard this spot. Observing her reaction, he reasoned she must be of the subservient category. That Barragan thing would certainly never perceive their party to be a threat. While it appeared to notice something was off nearby, it hadn't been able to pinpoint what that might be. Lucky for them. It would probably be for the best if they didn't attract attention to themselves anyway.

At this point in his musings Ryō looked back at her cohorts. "I think we should check it out. Let's go."

"Right behind you, Kunieda-san!"

HUH?!

Keigo's brain managed to register this much before Ryō had once more taken one hand apiece and proceeded to march towards the open doors. Fortunately the old gray matter responded quickly to any voyage into certain death, allowing him to dig in his heels and put a stop to that nonsense.

"Hold it!" the suddenly resolute outcast hissed as his partners turned to regard him. "What's the point of us going in there, really? We don't even know what's going on! Let's just wait and see what happens, okay? It's not like we can stop any of these things when it comes down to it. I'll bet Ichigo is on his way here, or he might be here already! That's probably what those quakes were about before. So let's… just…"

He trailed off upon finding they were both giving him the exact same look.

"W…what?" Keigo finally stammered.

In response Mizuiro said, "I want to know."

"Know _what?"_

"If there's really nothing we can do like you say," his friend responded simply. "And the only way to find out is to try."

Kunieda nodded. "Like he said."

"Are you both _crazy?!" _Keigo yanked himself free and staggered a few steps back. It was all he could do to keep from losing his cool and screaming bloody murder at these two insufferably calm freaks. But enough was enough, and it was time for somebody to be the voice of reason.

"So maybe this power of yours got us this far; that doesn't make us safe or… important or whatever, not by a longshot! Guys, please," his voice took on a pleading, urgent tone. "You don't have to try and be like the others. Ichigo, Chad, Orihime… what's the point in trying to catch up to them? They're so far out of our league it would be plain stupid to try and even follow at this stage. Look, I played along with this whole K.O.P.S. thing because it didn't seem like it could do any real harm, but when it comes to fighting monsters… what's the point? Seriously, _what? _And don't look at me like that, like I'm stupid or a coward or whatever! I'm completely serious! Because deep down you know… you _know I'm right about this!"_

Panting, he drew to a halt and glared at them, challenging either one to rebuke or dispute his contention. Let them call him whatever they will, it didn't matter. On this he would not give ground. Ryō had a look on her face that told him she was perfectly fine with leaving him to fend for himself. But Keigo got enough of being intimidated in his everyday life. He wasn't about to be killed for more of the same.

In the end it was Mizuiro who broke the silence.

"You're not stupid, Keigo-san. You're actually a very smart guy. And I wouldn't call you a coward. A situation like the one we're in would make any man feel afraid." He then tilted his head and gave a weary grin. "I just don't want to hear anyone else call you that. Because that would make me sad."

Asano flinched. He found himself looking away, unable to meet his longtime friend's eye. Stuffing both hands into his pockets, he was resolved not to let those words affect him. Better than anyone he knew how good Mizuiro was at manipulating people. It's what allowed him to coast through life up to this point. Women threw themselves at him, while completely ignoring Keigo. That was the cross he bore, and sometimes it seemed too heavy a burden. But a man had to keep his self-respect, regardless of how the world treated him. Pride counted for something in this life after all.

Of course, even as he thought this it occurred to him that he did not feel very proud of what he was doing. Should that tell him something?

Hot on the heels of this came the undeniable possibility that some of their friends might be up ahead. And they didn't have the benefit of Kunieda's magic to cower behind for protection.

_Coward._ The word resounded in his mind, resisting all efforts to banish it.

All right. So I'm a coward. I admit it. So what? Doesn't it keep me alive? Isn't that good?

Only if nobody else dies as a result.

Without another word and to the surprise of only one of his compatriots, Keigo Asano grabbed each of them by the wrist and marched towards the open portals, dragging the pair along with him. They moved hurriedly to keep up with his determined pace. As they passed between the stone porticos Keigo glared at the skulls gazing balefully down at them.

Go ahead and eat my soul. I've got an algebra test tomorrow I haven't studied for anyway. You'd be doing me a favor.

"Good man," Mizuiro beamed beside him.

"Go to hell," he responded as they entered the demon's domain.

* * *

><p>The Hollow shambled around a corner and blinked upon finding a sword point directly in its face.<p>

"Where are the humans?" the shinigami standing before it asked.

Its glowing yellow eyes rose to meet those of its bitter enemy, and the creature snarled once before lunging forward to impale itself upon the white soul cutter.

As the bone mask splintered, Rukia could have sworn the Hollow smiled at her while it dissolved away. Great. Another damn fanatic.

"I think we should stop trying to interrogate them," Hitsugaya spoke as he came up behind her, wiping off his weapon. The frozen bodies of several other Hollows were already vanishing at his back into purified butterflies on their way to Soul Society. "Whoever is running the show around here, they're clearly more afraid of it than they are of us."

"As you wish, taichou." Feeling slightly irked, Rukia conjured a small blue-white orb from her palm which she then sent speeding into the tunnel before them, trailing copies to light their path. The two shinigami proceeded on their way.

They were almost at their destination by her estimates. It had taken them a while considering this infernal snake nest was not laid out in any logical pattern she could determine. Tunnels twisted, twined and branched off seemingly at random. The chances of finding either Noboru or Rangiku Matsumoto still waiting for them were pretty slim. And since there was no guarantee her runaway nephew and the lost humans would be in the same spot, she had hit upon the then-brilliant option of asking any Hollows they came across to volunteer information as to the location of either prior to obliterating them.

However what had seemed like a stroke of inspired genius quickly proved to be a sick joke. This lot had demonstrated themselves to be not only more than willing to face them, but if she didn't know better they seemed almost… eager to perish. Something told her it wasn't because they knew a better world awaited them in Soul Society. That type of hopeful anticipation went against their very nature as Hollows.

_Maybe it's best we don't know the truth. Concentrate on what's more important._

Silently agreeing with her sword, Lieutenant Kuchiki stole after the head of Leopard Company as he moved forward. Captain Hitsugaya did not appear terribly broken up that her suggestion had proven useless, but neither did he fling its failure in her face. Most likely he remained focused solely on locating Matsumoto; anything else counted only as a side note.

_You don't suppose he'd abandon us and take off at the first sight of her, do you? He's not that immature, right?_

I barely know the man, Sode no Shirayuki.

_I mean, this place is a labyrinth, so it already has the feel of a trap. And everywhere looks identical. I could swear we passed that same intersection twice already. Say, does this remind you of one of those video games Karin used to play? You know, where the woman is running around that 'Kurai-Slur' Building shooting monster vermin?_

No, now hush. We're coming out to an open area.

Moments later the two shinigami found themselves in one of the large dimly lit caverns again. Its ceiling was lost to view, while nothing greeted their eyes on the ground but drab stone. The tunnels of this maze gradually slanted at some points, bringing them much deeper below the surface of Hueco Mundo than might first be guessed. She had assumed the mine system ran only a few feet beneath the desert, but a room this big clearly proved that wrong.

Rukia glanced around warily as they entered, sword at the ready. So far the Hollows they encountered had been easy pickings for someone of her caliber, meaning Tōshirō hadn't needed to exert himself in the slightest. He somehow even made unsheathing his soul cutter look like more effort than necessary. Perhaps that large Hollow they first encountered had been the leader? This did not preclude the possibility that more dangerous opponents lurked just around the bend. With their ability to sense the enemy's spiritual strength still being blocked somehow, overconfidence might spell their undoing. And while the average Hollow posed no threat to a captain, the lost humans had no such protection to speak of.

This got her thinking about Noboru, and a stab of distress made her shiver. The boy had a bad habit of running headlong into danger as a result of, well, arrogance. Perhaps there was no helping that and it was just a family trait, but in a situation like this, such cockiness could fast prove fatal. She had to find him before he bit off more than he could chew. If Ochi-sensei was right and the Hollows did not intend to harm their quarry (yet), then Noboru remained in the greatest danger at this time. Before then, however, there was something she had to try.

The chamber they were in boasted only two exits, and they had just entered through one. That made their choice simple. Without bothering to look around Captain Hitsugaya was already busily striding towards the far cave. "A moment, Captain," she called out to his retreating back. "Would you object if I attempted to pinpoint the humans' location?"

The snowy prodigy paused to flash a nettled look over his shoulder. "Haven't we wasted enough time? I thought you wanted to find this friend of yours as soon as possible."

"We know where he is headed. I am hoping we are sufficiently close that a kidō spell will prove useful. I would hate to learn we walked by where they were being held without even being aware of it." Rukia did not wait for permission and had already dropped to her knees to begin tracing a circle on the floor. "Thank you, sir. This will only take a few seconds, I assure you."

Hitsugaya glanced around them, eyes narrowed in frustration. He seemed to have issues with headstrong women. "Fine. Just be quick. I'll keep watch."

The lieutenant quickly busied herself with an inscription while the young captain moved to inspect their surroundings. The drawing was soon complete. In moments she would hopefully get a fix on their helpless quarry. "Heart of the south, eye of the north…"

She registered Captain Hitsugaya check back to assure she was safe before heading away, towards the cave down which they would soon proceed. Rukia could not have wished for a more capable partner, but all the same, she also couldn't help but compare this to another such episode long ago, when she had fought against a horde of ravenous Hollows side-by-side next to someone truly worthy of praise. She had never been given any reason to regret her choice of partner that day. Although truly, he had been the one to choose her, acting as both sword and shield when they were faced by a situation so very similar to what she found herself in now.

"Arrive with the wind and depart with…"

…similar…

A sensation hit her then, hard and fast, like a slap to the face. Rukia's spell broke off. Her head jerked up to see Hitsugaya approaching the tunnel. Dazed, she found herself shouting, "WAIT!"

The captain turned quickly, blade at the ready and confusion on his face at seeing no apparent threat. He might have said something, but if so Rukia did not hear.

She shuddered.

Something else was speaking to her. Not so much a premonition as it was… a familiarity. A sense of unease so intense it was making her ill. I've felt something like this before. I know it. If I can just remember when, it might save both our lives.

Hitsugaya was approaching her. Behind him the cave mouth yawned dark and wide, inviting them to enter. It was like a black throat ready to swallow her whole. _Come to me, _it seemed to say. _Delicious soul. Flush pleasure. I want you. Give yourself to me… _The light globes hovered around them, like bioluminescent fish whose pictures she had seen in high school textbooks, fending off the darkness which threatened to engulf her…

Then she knew.

Without delay Rukia sprang forward and grabbed Hitsugaya's sleeve to pull him back. "Hey!" he shouted at her in protest of this treatment. "What are you _doing, _lieutenant?!"

"Don't go in there!"

The boy captain left off his indignant questioning upon noticing her face. There was neither need nor reason to hide the fear she was feeling. Rukia recognized this specific sensation. Once before, what seemed like ages in the past, she had been alone on her very first assignment in the mortal world, working to relocate souls that had been lost in the depths of the ocean. Omnipresent darkness had made up the surroundings then as it did now. And something came upon her unawares while she toiled all unwitting down there. It appeared without warning. No sense of spiritual perception or even sight preceded it; only the sheer unmistakable realization that she was in deadly peril. Rukia almost perished that day, she was sure.

Because of this, there could be no doubt the exact same thing was approaching them now.

The lights in the room seemed to dim.

_Perhaps we should run?_

Too late.

From the tunnel, _it_ emerged. And saw them.

It was not a Hollow. Or at least, nothing any previous experience could have prepared her to accept as one. This thing seemed to be composed of thick, pulsing blood. It loomed three times their height, a skeletal warrior astride a bony steed with its own head held in its hands. Red eyes turned on them, and Rukia found herself reflexively snatching up her weapon in defense as this charnel titan entered the chamber.

She heard Tōshirō curse even as he interposed himself before her, Hyōrinmaru's blade angled before his body. There was a ghostly glow of frost and spiritual power emanating from the weapon, and the great glaive on its chain now resembled more than ever a crescent moon. This was the only illumination that remained undaunted by that horrid presence. Rukia felt fear shoot up her legs, rooting her to that spot so she didn't dare move a step. She couldn't have run now even if she wanted to, and heaven forgive her, but she did.

"Kuchiki-fukutaicho, get out of here. That's an order," she heard Hitsugaya state softly. His eyes remained fixed upon their enemy.

The thing before them absorbed the sight of a boy facing it down. To Rukia's horror, it then looked past him to focus on _her. _

"**You?" **

It took a few steps in, bringing with it a terrible stench of blood. **"We could almost belie…" **The gruesome specter let out a breath then, its bulging eyes roaming about the room. A ripple seemed to emanate throughout the creature from back to front. In that instant Rukia could have sworn its pupils glowed green. This subsided before she could be certain, at which point the nightmare chuckled. **"No, let's dispense with that much at least. It grows tiresome, and there's no one else to hear and wonder. I was just about to say I could almost believe someone planned this. Perhaps he is right, and there is a measure of design to everything; goals that we are **_**meant**_** to achieve. I could almost believe it now." **

The head turned slowly between them, and to her horror, those fleshless lips actually curved in a smile, the representation of a skull now twisted into something that bore a shocking resemblance to a real face. **"Why else would I be given another chance to eat you, girl?"**

Hitsugaya stepped forward to meet the monster. "I told you to leave, lieutenant," the lone hero threw back behind him.

These words snapped Rukia out of her trance. Trembling fingers tightened around Sode no Shirayuki's hilt, but she did not withdraw. "Don't be foolish, taichou." The girl swallowed her fear and stepped forth to join him. "You can't fight that alone. We both know it's _vasto lorde._"

"And just how much of a difference do you think your contribution will make?"

His voice was cold, cruel; obviously meant to hurt, to break her resolve and force her to flee. Fortunately Rukia had prior experience with this sort of thing. Long experience. And if Tōshirō sought to drive her off with harsh words, he had a long way to go before he could ever approach Byakuya's level. With icy dignity the lady of Seireitei came up to stand at his right hand. "I will do whatever you command in this fight, taichou. But a Kuchiki does not run from death."

At this the blood god reared on its hind legs to paw the air with its hooves. **"Don't fret, girl. I was only teasing you. Like this, there's no satisfaction to be gained from consuming you in the slightest. A waste of a long-anticipated meal, I should think." **The demon finally turned its attention to the captain boldly facing it. **"You, however, are a different story. Dead is dead whether I'm fully present to enjoy it or not."**

A crackle of frost and ice worked up Hyōrinmaru's sickle, indicative of its master's slow-building wrath. "The kicked dog of a traitor holds no menace for me, _Segunda_ _Espada. _Or do you prefer Barragan Luisenbarn? I assume this is all that's left of you after Zero Company finished."

If he had been expecting to anger it, his jibe had missed its mark once again. The Hollow King merely laughed as blood ran from its jaws like drool.** "I admit I'll miss the opportunity to find out how you taste, snowdrop. But Aizen made his wishes regarding **_**you**_** very clear."**

Rukia saw Hitsugaya's back stiffen, a moment before his angry snarl broke the air. "BAN-KAI!"

In an instant he was engulfed in a cocoon of white mist and bitterest cold, and it was then the _Espada_ struck. From out of one bony palm a long red liquid spike shot forth streaking straight towards the two shinigami. Rukia shouted, "TOZANSHŌ!" only to watch her half-formed magic pyramid bend and shatter before the force of that assault, not even serving to diminish its approach for a half second.

But even a momentary stay was enough. A longsword flashed, the reiatsu level of the room surged, and the next thing she knew the lieutenant of Heron Squad was halfway across the cavern being settled back on her shaky feet. Two icy wings parted before her, and Tōshirō Hitsugaya turned away to face their opponent, now hovering a few feet off the ground with hands and feet become talons of ice. Both cold and power poured off him like a miniature blizzard.

The _Segunda _had not bothered to move from his previous location. Instead Barragan took to examining his thwarted weapon, now seemingly frozen solid into a black icicle for along halfway down its length. A bubbling snort emerged from the horse's head, after which the surface of the ice spear cracked and shattered into rigid shards. Those daggers then stuck straight out in the manner of an agitated porcupine's quills. Doing so revealed that beneath the ice there remained a thick tendril of blood untouched by the captain's attack.

"**More bothersome than expected," **the Hollow general mused. **"Normally such tricks would be embarrassing at best, but like this…" **His head turned to regard them, and once more a smile warped that blood pudding mask. **"You might actually keep me entertained for a few minutes."**

Quickly Rukia stepped to one side while gripping Sode no Shirayuki in readiness to join the battle, only to find Hitsugaya had moved to keep himself interposed between them.

"I won't be responsible for your death," he whispered. "Run and bring help!"

Perhaps he intended this to be less scornful than his previous efforts. For all the good that did. "Captain," the girl spoke as calmly as she could, "we will fight or flee together. Either way, do not hold back on my part."

Tōshirō spared a glance over his shoulder to see determination spelled clearly on the lieutenant's face. "You'll die if I don't."

This terse statement made her shiver, and quickly Rukia strove to master her reaction lest he get the wrong impression. "I can withstand levels of ice reiatsu other shinigami might not. You must let me attend to myself if we are to prevail!"

"**Such bravery," **the monster drawled. It indicated down the tunnel they had entered from with a leisurely sweep of one arm. **"Do as the whelp says and leave. I'll let you run, girl. How far you get is up to me."**

At that mockery Hitsugaya's spiritual manifestation increased even further, causing freezing winds to whip throughout the chamber. More tendrils sprouted from the horror's body in response. The frozen shards then sank into their fount only to reemerge once again at the tips of these extensions, which had taken on the appearance of fanged serpents whose jaws now bristled with gleaming icicle teeth.

Tōshirō sprang forward as though launched from a cannon, wings extended and nodachi sword pointed down to leave hoarfrost spreading in its wake. The red forest of snakes spread out to intercept him.

Meanwhile Rukia Kuchiki had already plunged her weapon into the ground several times in preparation. Neither of the two combatants was paying her any attention. They had eyes only for each other. It seemed there would be no more attempts at debate. Rukia had made her choice in spite of their shared opinion as to her worth. She only prayed to prove them both wrong.

"_TSUGI NO MAI: HAKUREN!"_

* * *

><p>No doubt about it. The bats had picked up speed as they drew down. Like the closer they got to their goal, the faster they wanted to move.<p>

When they did finally descend into a huge pit torn out of the desert, Kon had not stopped to question. He simply threw himself down the hole, come what may. It was almost a relief not having to restrain himself quite as much as before. He had no time to consider the details, much less a very real and growing sense of unease. Judging by the number of shinigami war troupes he had passed getting here, something big was about to go down. They all looked to be converging on this spot. Nice to find them so attentive. On the other hand, if a battle did start, he would much rather the innocent bystanders be well away.

Now a whirlpool of winged forms was tearing down the dark tunnels. The mod soul found himself even more appreciative of his new body than before. Not only was he not even the slightest bit tired from running all this way, but he could see perfectly well in the lightless gloom where he now found himself. Didn't have to turn on night vision or anything; the whole environment leapt out to his eyes in some way he could immediately perceive without any effort.

Kon passed Hollows of all shapes and sizes. By his viewpoint they were all moving like slugs, unable to register his passing any more than their enemies had. If he was fast enough, he might just be able to get the kids out of here before anyone could even pick up his trail.

The bats banked in a group down twists and turns without fail. It was like each and every one of them knew exactly where to go. Or they were following a lead bat. Either way, judging by how they all picked up speed, the fleet-footed tracker judged he had almost reached the end of the line. Soon the chase would end.

Then he might have no choice but to fight.

* * *

><p>The strand on her harp was vibrating rapidly now. Lagrima used this to home in on her target. Passing by other Hollows scuttling about their duty, she strove to project a confidence that she in no way felt.<p>

They could all sense it now. Like a weight pressing down on them from above, enough that it would be no surprise if the roof caved in. Somewhere over their heads, a large force of shinigami was gathering. Their combined strength was abominable, enough to make the priestess doubt her chances of survival. Not that such filth could ever triumph against His Majesty. He would destroy them all. But this still in no way guaranteed the rest of them would survive. It was their lot. Death might arrive at any moment.

At last she came upon one of the larger caverns. It was here Lagrima found what she sought, and the sight left her feeling chilled on several levels. Towards one end of the room there had been a cave-in. Whether natural or not, it left the tunnels open to the cheerless sky of Hueco Mundo. A cold wind blowing in might have been what caused her to shiver. Or it may have had something to do with the frozen pillar at the center of the floor. Upon approaching, she could clearly distinguish the majority of Berrinholtz. The bulky Hollow was frozen completely. His head lay a few paces off, also encased in a block of ice.

Upon closer inspection, however, she was relieved to find that his core had not been damaged. Whoever did this presumed a decapitation would be sufficient to end the matter. And with anyone else it might have been. How very fortunate the Huge Hollow was slightly more than your average brute. Precisely why His Majesty had placed His faith in him.

Lagrima settled the full urn upon the ground with utmost care. She then selected an appropriate string and plucked it. The sound it made was of a pitch that went beyond hearing, beyond perception. Its effect was to cause the glacier to shudder slightly. Frowning, Lagrima grasped the strand between thumb and forefinger, causing one half to still while the other continued to vibrate.

Ice began to splinter and split. Very cautiously the musician slid her pinched fingers ever higher, and the pitch of her note rose in accordance, becoming a keening knife of sound. This dagger almost visibly coalesced in the air before her to thrust deep into the frigid prison with all the desperate vehemence she could muster. At last the ice burst into pieces to fall in blocks and shards all around them, leaving head and body free.

For a few moments nothing else moved in that lonesome place. Lagrima was just considering plucking a more specific strand to get a response when a voice spoke.

"Everything all right here, boss?"

The seneschal whirled to find she had been joined by two other Hollows. The turncoats, Loly and Menoly, stood a ways off. Fear seized upon her. Could they be here to exact revenge for her previous treatment? The despicable wretches, taking advantage of this chaotic situation, how dare they!

A rumble came from behind her. Lagrima knew instant relief. Glancing over one shoulder she observed the torso give a slight quiver. Its huge feet shuffled forward, and the headless beast bent down. Those fearsome talons exercised surprising gentleness in retrieving its skull. With that it reconnected head to shoulders, and once more Berrinholtz stood whole again. While unable to free himself from the spectral ice on his own, he was now capable of exercising his full power in her service. Though any enemy that could immobilize such a dreadful opponent bore consideration. And if His Majesty came upon it, such means of attack might prove… difficult… considering his current avatar state.

Of course there was the immediate question of her unexpected intruders. Now feeling distinctly more assured she rounded upon them and declared in imperious tones, "Why are you lurking about here? I have already given you orders I expect to be obeyed!"

A glance passed between the two that told her everything. The black-haired one raised her chin. "We were concerned about your safety. We came to…"

"Take me unawares?" Kneeling to retrieve the precious jar, she felt Berrinholtz come up at her back to regard them with an angry growl. The masked minstrel did not hide a smirk when she spoke next. "Whatever happens today, rest assured we will triumph. And any traitors shall be dealt with in the aftermath."

Menoly bristled, but the sheer implied threat of Berrinholtz kept any protestations from leaving her lips. All the same, Lagrima was still feeling angry at that previous suspicion. Perhaps now, before the inevitable fight started, it would be advisable to trim the deadweight. No need for any explanation afterwards, really. Not for this dross. His Highness would give their disposal little concern.

Perhaps less than He would give me if I were to have been killed.

Shock at this admittedly traitorous thought left her even more angry than before. Her life did not matter! Only the mighty Barragan need emerge from this debacle for victory to be theirs. But that didn't mean she needed to meet death with any… unnecessary regrets. One need not begrudge any and all desires in service to one's god. So resolved, Lagrima turned her head to give the order for their execution.

"Bakudo #62: Hyapporankan!"

In the next instant Loly and Menoly were flat on their backs, pinned to the ground by a bristling collection of slender crystal poles before they could so much as cry out.

Lagrima could not give this occurrence quite as much of her attention as she might like, considering there was now a bared sword held to her throat. She froze, eyes riveted to a nondescript spot on the wall, afraid to so much as breathe.

"Don't move an inch, big fella!"

The sound of a woman's voice. A stirring at her back might have indicated Berrinholtz being denied the choice to take action.

"What are you waiting for? Take their heads while they're down."

"Without even getting to know them? Why not do your own killing, _asesina? _Emphasis on _ass."_

"Cute. So… Lagrima, right? Are you the one in charge around here?"

It was difficult to move, much less talk. The realization of her own impending murder had not granted Lagrima any of the calm focused intensity some people had spoken of. Instead all she knew was shivering terror, combined with a humiliating impulse to beg for mercy.

"If I was going to kill you we wouldn't be having this conversation. I can't ask questions to a butterfly. So before the other shinigami crash the party, start by telling me what you needed _this_ for."

Whoever was talking tapped the bottom of the jug. This served to reignite some sense of pride in the captive Hollow. Her fingers began to inch towards a string on the harp. To cover this she spoke, "There is no sense in discussion. You will all perish soon, heretic!"

"Oh! Heretic! That tells me a lot! You're one of Barragan's flunkies, aren't you?"

A quick flash of confusion and suspicion followed by outrage. "Do not _dare _to speak His name, shinigami! We are–!"

"Ichimaru says hi."

Her knees almost gave out. The only thing that prevented Lagrima from pitching to the floor was the sharp steel held firmly to her jugular. This did not prevent a moaning sob to escape. Memories came flooding in. Once more she was back in that tiny lightless cell, feeling her anxiety building with every passing second. Would he come for her first? Had someone already broken and revealed His Majesty's secrets? There was no way to tell. She might already be condemned to death. Then the door opened. The silver-haired snake came walking in with a smile, and before she knew it Lagrima was screaming out anything of value she could lay claim to knowing in the hopes that it would stave off being tortured to death.

He broke me before he even came into the room. Without lifting a finger.

With that, Lagrima was off.

"_We have been harvesting _essence from humans who were in close proximity to _vasto lorde! _They carry a taint upon their living souls as a result of the master race's influence! Combined with the energy of a mortal being who has never known death an effluvia can be rendered which serves as a restorative for the Undead who has been brought to the precipice of annihilation! Nine human vessels were initially identified with one transferred to a location that saw it removed from consideration! Harvesters crafted from what remained of his flesh were then able to extract this elixir and bring about a partial restoration! The humans were kept alive in order to continue producing more of the restorative! Using samples of their hair which were stolen while they slept I could keep track of them! At His Majesty's order we have sought to remain undetected in order to gradually achieve full revival at which point we shall emerge and decimate the shinigami! I was assigned to oversee this action! We were not permitted to leave the caverns! All went smoothly until a few hours past when a large quantity of harvesters returned at once followed by my realization that seven of the vessels were now in Hueco Mundo! We resolved to capture them in order to administer a feeding directly! Two of the humans were located and brought to the chapel but one of them injured him further and before we could proceed my dreamcatchers were destroyed followed by an alert that our refuge had been penetrated! His Majesty emerged in avatar form to do battle with the invaders and I was assigned to locate Berrinholtz to confirm he was ready for combat!"

When she could think of nothing more that might be relevant, Lagrima fell silent.

No words were spoken for a while.

"Wow. Now _that's_ how an interrogation is supposed to work. Nice going, Bouncy!"

"Honestly, I didn't think it would be that effective. Well, anyway, thanks for your help and enjoy Soul Society."

The edge of a soul cutter was just starting to press in when a shout came. "WAIT! I've got some questions for her!"

"… no, you don't. We're taking this _vasto lorde_ juice and getting–"

"Oy, Blabbermouth! Who's the one responsible for sending the Wild Hunt to Earth recently?"

She answered immediately. "A former member of…"

Before she could finish, a shove sent Lagrima flying. In panic she dropped her harp to clutch the precious flask as she fell, cradling it to her chest with a desperate mania. Even as she hit the ground there was a confused blur of images. A golden-haired woman springing forward; two blades colliding together, one held by a disembodied arm; Berrinholtz charging with a bellow as a brown-skinned youth shouted something moments before the Huge Hollow was sent rocketing back; the flash of a _Cero, _followed by the sound of breaking glass and two voices shouting…

"POISON, _ESCOLOPENDRA!"_

"STING, _ESCORPIŌN!"_

Moments later she felt a sharp increase in energy from the two apostates as they activated their _resurrecciónes. _Both sprang furiously at the shinigami and the boy, who met them head-on while Berrinholtz strove to extricate himself from a wall. But Lagrima could concentrate on none of this. A strange gray pall had fallen over her vision that leeched away any and all hues. At the same time, a hand came down on her arm.

"Let's go."

To her astonishment, the priestess found another Hollow kneeling at her side. Half of a sharp-featured face showed, grim of mouth and dark of look. The remaining Hollow mask was dominated by a tremendous eye boasting only a small black pupil in the manner of a chameleon, overshadowed by an outthrust horn. Lagrima felt certain she had met this person before, but a name… wait…

"You are… Decima?"

"Tessima." The small _arrancar _took an arm to help her up. Both stood together for a moment before looking over to where that savage battle continued. "Don't worry," Enfain Tessima stated. "They can't see you now and the _sombras _still hide our reiatsu. No more words, they might hear us. Just follow me."

Dumbly, still clutching her oenochoe jug like it was a lifeline to sanity, Lagrima trailed along as her unexpected savior led them down the tunnel from which she entered. Soon enough the sounds of battle diminished behind, and it was only the two of them.

"Where are you taking me?" she finally thought to ask.

"Out," Tessima stated tersely. "This base is lost. We'll have to move to one of the other staging areas."

Out? Lagrima tried to puzzle over the implications of this admittedly simple statement. They could leave? Had the great Barragan seen fit to grant her the freedom she so desperately craved?

Fool.

_He_ would never do that. She was meant to serve Him until His return. And even if He did… His Majesty would never send a wretched unmasked traitor like _this _to inform her.

I must go to Him. My place is by Barragan's side. I must inform Him what is transpiring. Confess my sins. He will know what to do. His will is law. I must accept the punishment that is my due. But the wretch Tessima would surely seek to stop any attempt at escape. And her harp was gone along with any refined means of attack. The odds of her emerging victorious from combat were not good; Lagrima had never been of the warrior caste in any case. However there were other means at any sufficiently advanced Hollow's disposal.

When they approached a junction in the tunnel, she seized this opportunity. As soon as Tessima preceded her down the path, Lagrima fired bright green _Ceros _from the air holes in her mask. The destructive attack tore into the ceiling, bringing rock and sand pouring down between them. She could hear the _arrancar_'s enraged shouts over this tumult, but by that point she had already ducked through the downpour and made her escape down the other branch.

* * *

><p>"Tatsuki-san! Wake up! Please!"<p>

Mom? A dull ache that seemed to originate from her whole body left Arisawa wondering what she had been doing last night. Was there a match? Is that why she felt so bad? Need to get a hot shower, ease out some of this soreness. Gotta go to school… wait…

"Tatsuki-san!"

Mom doesn't call me 'Tatsuki-san'…

This thought roused her further. She stirred, only to find that this jolted fresh stabs of pain behind her eyes and into her spine. For a moment Tatsuki Arisawa just lay there, teeth clenched to keep from crying out at this agony. Was she being attacked? Can't move… what's going on?

The pain brought it all back to her. With it came fresh determination and a rekindling of her spirit. So resolved, the furious young warrior fought past the torment that felt like she was being peeled alive and managed to open her eyes.

They were still in the burial chamber. A few paces off Chizuru Honshō lay watching her anxiously. When their eyes met the redhead gave a gasp of laughter. "Oh sweet Isle of Lesbos, am I glad you're up!"

'Up' did not exactly cover her current condition. Tatsuki could not so much as move a finger. This seemed to be related to the unremitting torture throbbing in every nerve. She couldn't tell if it had receded any from the initial assault which had previously knocked her out, but at the very least she was now conscious. A step in the right direction even if all she could manage was a pained grunt in response.

"You've been out for a while," Honshō breathed. The girl did not move as she spoke, instead lying in a discarded heap much the same as Tatsuki. The only difference was she did not appear to be under any lingering influence save for paralysis. And that might wear off. "Those Hollows left. I think somebody might be here to rescue us! It sounded like there was a fight! Did you feel that rumbling? Can you move? I'm still stuck from what that faceless harpist did to us. Do you think we should shout?"

A dry rustling overhead reminded Tatsuki of their situation. Regardless of what Chizuru said, they were decidedly not alone in here.

The vampire still lay in its bed. Ensconced within the sepulcher, it remained as immobile as they were now. Otherwise it would surely be feasting on them. She could just barely make out its shape from the corner of one eye. The thing didn't appear to be breathing. Could it be dead? Had she killed it? Or had it never been alive at all? Despite the pain Tatsuki desperately wished for a clearer picture of what their situation might be.

"Hey! More bats!"

Looking over, Arisawa found Honshō peering in astonishment at something. When she managed to do the same, Tatsuki recognized some of the little creatures that had started this mess. A flock of the dusty bats now hovered overhead, sending out tiny cries that could indicate distress. Within each of them burned a small blue glow. They were like fireflies.

Wonder if this means we're screwed?

There came a slight pop. The next instant Kon was bending down beside them. "Girls?!" the mod soul whispered anxiously, glancing at each in turn. "Are you okay?"

"K-!" This was as far as Tatsuki got before a fresh batch of hot needles plunged into her nerve endings. She simmered in this agony, snarls and spittle emerging through bared teeth. Her whole body felt like one massive throbbing wound.

And then it went away. The relief was so intense she almost passed out again. Startled at this abrupt return to normalcy, the spiky-haired samurai recovered to find Kon holding her hand in his own. The other rested on her knee, but far from seeming perverted, this felt… incredibly soothing. Tatsuki could have wept or passed out from sheer relief. It was only simple curiosity that kept her awake.

"Whu…" Her tongue improved with every second, allowing her to finally get it out. "Wha're yu doong?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing bad. I'm transferring a cleansing run into you." He clearly thought she had fallen under the impression that he was groping her. This was so definitely not the case it made Tatsuki ashamed he would ever fear that… which considering this was Kon they were talking about seemed pretty bizarre.

As if in further proof of his chivalry their rescuer quickly supplied, "See, mods weren't made with healing features since we were meant to be put into corpses. Nobody cares if a dead guy gets damaged, right? You just pop us into a new one and off we go again. But this body of mine came about from a more advanced design standard. It's specifically built for someone with my skill set, so it would be a waste to lose. With it I can pull off stunts any other vessel wouldn't be able to handle. One of them is for removing foreign influences. Through the right leg movements I can channel my energy to perform diagnostics and cleanup. Combined with this suit the R&D boys whipped up, if I'm touching someone, that restoration can partially heal them too. I mean, until some real medical people can show up."

Two things leapt out at her then. If Tatsuki looked closely, it seemed like Kon's legs were vibrating as he knelt there, becoming slightly blurred in the process. She could feel the ground shuddering. On top of that was what he had on. It looked to be a wetsuit at first glance, only lacking sleeves and with a head covering that left just his face visible. He was sporting elbow-length gloves of matching skintight appearance. The whole thing was charcoal gray with two thin yellow bands that ran around the outline of his body, giving her the crazy notion that somebody had driven a highway lane divider all over Kon, even including his fingers and toes. This design was pulsing faintly now with a glow that matched those vibrations through the rock beneath them. A pink scarf was wrapped around his bicep. Other than that the only ornament was what looked like two handles attached to either side of his chest. The whole look made her think modern-day ninja. Or luging. One of the two.

At length Kon drew back his support. "You should be okay for the most part." He then swiftly hopped over and performed this same routine on Chizuru, seeming to take less time with her. During that period Tatsuki leveraged herself up to rest against the wall. Even this minor achievement cost her greatly in terms of stamina, so that she was sweating and trembling just sitting there. But it was a definite improvement over pain-wracked coma patient. Tatsuki allowed herself to feel grateful for that much.

While doing so, she perceived the corpse was staring at her.

Only the eyes had moved, rotating in their sockets with a visible effort. Those empty holes for pupils had locked with her own, and Tatsuki felt a rush of dread with the memory of what had transpired here so very recently. Right along with it came the return of frenzied outrage, well-earned and screaming for an outlet.

Unfortunately, when she made an attempt to go after the demon, it only resulted in an ungainly lurch upwards before falling back against the side of the cave. After that disgrace she settled for panting and glaring murder at her attacker. However, this appeared to clue Kon in to the vampire's presence, which he seemingly had overlooked before. Following Tatsuki's gaze, he visibly blanched upon registering that unmoving husk stuffed into the alcove.

With utmost wariness the mod soul rose upright. He looked between the two girls who were now at least capable of movement, then at the creature. It made no response to his presence. Only the bats still fluttered overhead, giving out tiny whimpers of frustration.

Finally Kon blinked and shook his head as though trying to clear it. He slowly bent down once more, never taking his attention from the vampire, and picked up Chizuru. Holding the trembling girl he carefully backed up to crouch before Tatsuki. "Tatsuki-san, can you reach around my chest? The suit's designed for at least one passenger. If you grab the handles up front, it'll trigger a feature that will let me carry you piggyback so I can get us all out of here."

She made no move to comply.

"Tatsuki-chan?" Chizuru peered over his shoulder. "Are you…"

"Are you fucking _stupid?!" _

The lesbian drew back, startled at the vehemence in those words. Arisawa ignored her and instead hissed at Kon. "What the hell are you waiting for? Do you have any idea what that goddamn thing _did to me?!_ _KILL IT ALREADY!"_

Tatsuki had to take a few deep breaths to compensate for her exhaustion at getting even that much out. Meanwhile Kon… didn't even look at her! Just sat there like he hadn't heard a word she said! It made her so furious she might have attacked him under normal circumstances. But just when she finally managed to get enough air in to really let him have it, Kon turned around.

She hardly recognized him. The look he gave her held so much contempt it took that hard-won breath away.

"You look like hell, Tatsuki-san."

Taken aback, the bewildered invalid felt a cold stab of uncertainty rush through her.

"For that alone I'll gladly help kick all the ass you want later," Kon continued in a very quiet manner that unnerved Arisawa more than anything else she had encountered today. "But don't you…"

His voice broke right then, allowing them all to finally hear raw unfettered emotion kept right below the surface. When Kon recovered enough to speak there were tears in his eyes. He looked like a person hurting worse than Tatsuki had ever thought possible.

"Don't you _ever _tell me to kill anybody, _got it?!_ Especially not someone who's… _helpless_ and can't fight back! Because it insults me, and it insults yourself even worse! I don't know what happened here but I refuse to believe you turned into a _killer_ since the last time we met!" Once more he grew calm, his words soft and in complete control. "Now I am getting you home. And unless you're a lot dumber than even I'll ever be, you will hop on and not worry about anything else."

She did. Wordlessly Tatsuki reached under Kon's armpits to find the promised handles. Once she took hold there was a weird hum, and the next instant the girl found herself pressed firmly against his back with both knees tucked up to her stomach. To top it all off there was now a sort of energy web coming out of his wetsuit that encircled her, leaving the exhausted youth in a kind of papoose.

When he felt secure Kon stood up still carrying Chizuru. After making a few adjustments to get a good feel for this new dynamic, he then cast an angry look at the motionless figure reclining in its recess. The vampire watched him back with eyes that held no emotion of any kind.

"If you weren't half-dead already," their rescuer said, "I'd boot your dry carcass halfway across Hueco Mundo. Be happy that it was me who get here first."

He took off back the way he came, leaving the dust devil in its stone coffin.

* * *

><p>His robe was more red than white. Frozen blood clotted in his hair and down his scalp. Whenever he moved, droplets of it turned to dark ice in midair before clattering against the floor.<p>

Tōshirō's world had shrunk to nothing but blood, ice… and fear.

Hungry mouths sank into the young death god's wrists, rendering him unable to swing his sword. Uttering a wild scream he brought his icy tail whipping around with such force the tentacles shattered even as they froze. Gasping in relief, Hitsugaya burst free and swept Hyōrinmaru forth with desperate speed to send a volley of ice daggers soaring towards his target.

Before they even cleared half the room, red vines intervened to let the projectiles thud into them, freezing in the process but preventing any real damage to the true enemy. Barragan Luisenbarn had retreated slightly. This was not done from any sense of peril. The great bulk of the _vasto lorde _now stood blocking the cavern from which he had emerged. A long ribbon sprouted from the hideous fountainhead and snaked across the room to reach the other cave mouth. Once there it simply expanded out, forming a red glistening plug that filled the opening and prevented any attempt at egress from this duel.

The Hollow clearly owned this space despite a deceptively growing resemblance to the young shinigami's natural element. An indoor blizzard whirled throughout the immense catacomb. Gleaming snow was everywhere, piling up in drifts or causing giant icicles to hang from above. Cold was the only thing that had saved Hitsugaya; that and the captain-level body armor he had never been more glad was now standard issue. When any feasting red serpents touched him they immediately turned fragile as glass, but even this was not enough. The damage was done. Those frozen fangs still penetrated even his reiatsu-enhanced clothing. Without it he would have already been torn apart. He bled copiously beneath the armor, and all his enemy suffered in return was a momentary pause while retracting the solidified liquid in order to turn them into more daggers which then attacked from every conceivable angle.

Pivoting on the wing, a blade-sharp maw of teeth only narrowly missed tearing his face off, instead scoring long streaks across one cheek. With blind fury the captain grabbed it in one icy claw, crushing the strand even as several others swooped in. When Tōshirō flash-stepped as fast as he could to get away the blood eels kept apace, slashing at his wings and legs to bring him to ground. The ice regrew, but he did not. Jagged edges opened his flesh from every angle no matter how he tried to dodge. Each wound they inflicted took its toll. He could not outrun them. And they were _everywhere._

It was overwhelming him.

The only thing which seemed to give the _Espada_ any pause was what came more naturally to him than breathing: ice. At full ban-kai Tōshirō could now freeze the swarms of red vines completely when they were in close proximity, although it did not hamper their speed or sheer amount. Even with the sub-zero temperatures surrounding them, this had done nothing to hinder the main body. With the razor-tipped tentacles growing by the second he could not so much as approach the decapitated ghoul to attempt a direct assault. Only his ice powers kept him from death, and that would not hold true for long. Very soon this game of cat and mouse would end. His petal timers were down to half already.

What few kidō spells he was able to gasp out had been largely useless, whether cast by him or Lieutenant Kuchiki. True to his word, the archfiend had ignored Rukia after her initial attack proved ineffective. Instead Barragan focused on the arguably more dangerous boy captain. This was not his first encounter against the breed of nightmare known as _vasto lorde. _But it was the first time effectively alone. He had lost track of Rukia in the last few seconds and did not dare divide his attention to seek her out. She might already be dead.

_The girl lives. _

I'm going to die, Hitsugaya realized.

_That blood body… it must be some type of conjuring. A sending, allowing him to manifest here but not at full strength. Otherwise we would already be dead._

I still can't win, Hyōrinmaru.

_Stay calm. If we can break the spell animating him, this battle is won._

Tōshirō could have howled at how calm his zanpakutō sounded. Being outclassed to this degree left him doubting any faith he might have held in his own skills. The 'child prodigy'? He had never felt the first part of that pseudonym so acutely. Tōshirō had been reduced to what so many perceived him to be: a child. Trapped with no way out, facing an opponent that he could not see how to defeat, it was… _terrifying!_

_Tensō Jūrin might be sufficient to end this. _

If I do that it could kill everyone near us, even the humans and Rukia, don't you understand?!

_Trust in me! I swear no innocent shall perish by my hand! We will not fail!_

Their rapport was interrupted as more tendrils streaked towards him. A sweep of Hyōrinmaru clutched in his frigid fist turned them into ice sculptures only to be replaced by more. These he fled from, spinning and dancing across the surface of the cavern as hundreds of hungry jaws pierced the stone walls like bullets all around his flight. Not all of them missed, and their cold bite caused him to scream aloud for the first time. Tōshirō noticed veins of blood threading through his wings; his own, he realized.

Despairing, the heavily wounded captain veered sharply upwards to reach the very apex of the ceiling, and for just a few seconds he had a respite as the nest of ensanguine snakes regrouped in apparent preparation to engulf him. He took advantage of this. Raising his sword on high, the head of Leopard Company hoarsely intoned, "Sennen Hyōrō!"

Moments later the 1,000 Year Ice Prison manifested as five frosty towers arrayed in a semicircle around Barragan. Many of the tendrils were trapped in them, cut in half so swiftly they seemed to disappear in the process, but the sight failed to encourage him. Even with months of training, this was the most he could manage on short notice. All that nonsense with Commander Kuchiki for nothing! _Nothing! _You worthless _child! _

At his furious command the iceberg flotilla converged to come smashing against the Hollow's position, hopefully freezing and grinding it to powder.

At that instant every single tentacle in the room turned to ice.

Hitsugaya remained floating near the ceiling, bewildered. His misty breath was disturbingly red, the taste of blood sharp and cold in his throat with every gasp. But wherever he looked no new attacks emerged. Only a forest of dark crimson branches through which gale-force winds continued to howl.

Did that really do it? I can hardly believe it's over. Wait, what about Rukia?

He turned his head to look for her.

A reiatsu so dense it was virtually solid hit him in the back…

_FLY! _

… right as a spear took him through the chest.

For one long second he was too exhausted to even fully comprehend. It felt like just one more wound out of dozens. Only when he tried to breathe and realized he couldn't did Tōshirō fully comprehend what had happened. Dully he looked down to find the tip of a league-long black icicle an inch shy of piercing his heart. This single grotesque shaft had punched through one of the icebergs with ease to reach him high overhead.

A shiver wracked his frame, and the blood spear snapped. With it went the last of his strength. The fingers of his right hand unclenched to let Hyōrinmaru drop, followed moments later by its master. Like a lead snowflake he plummeted earthwards to be enveloped in a pile of snow.

Shattered remnants of frosty stalactites fell all around. The 1,000 Year Ice Prison soon followed, crumbling into fragments that steamed faintly. At their heart stood the King of Hueco Mundo, Barragan Luisenbarn. Uncontested, the ghastly giant rode forth, semi-solid hooves clipping against the ice. At the same time, though, his crowned head turned to gaze intently towards a far wall. Once more emerald stars burned within the sockets before receding into darkness. Yet still his attention remained riveted off to the side. And all throughout the room, that same deathly spiritual aura from before hovered like a talon poised to rip out their throats.

"**I believe I recognize that scent," **the _dullahan _rasped in thoughtful deliberation even as he came to tower over his fallen opponent. **"The shinigami are another matter altogether, but this… will require reinforcements."**

Once more a ripple passed over that liquid form. For several moments it remained still. Then the horse stamped its hoof and gave a snort, at which point its rider-partner drew up once again. He looked down to where Hitsugaya remained half-buried in a white barrow that dissolved by the second.

"**It seems a most dangerous player has been let off the leash. So our game must end. Die well, little shinigami." **

Barragan reached down to deliver the deathblow.

"… no Mai…"

There came a brief flash of white like moonlight on snow. In that same moment the unspeakably long blade of an ice sword had passed through the arm which held aloft Barragan's skull.

"_Shirafune!"_

This cry coincided with a drop in temperature so violent the liquid bone simply shattered halfway between elbow and wrist. In doing so, the _dullahan's_ head became truly detached from his body.

That crowned skull quite abruptly turned to ash in midair. The rest of Luisenbarn went completely still.

Before the dust could even settle something unseen dropped from the ceiling to land right beside the decapitated tyrant, evident only by the snow crunching slightly. Then Rukia Kuchiki reappeared, Sode no Shirayuki's Third Dance dissipating until it was once more at normal length. As her _Curved Light _spell dispersed she was running forward to kneel beside the battered captain. He groaned piteously as she rolled him onto his back, and the lieutenant's eyes widened in horror upon seeing the extent of his injuries. Wordlessly she summoned up a healing spell and got to work repairing as much as she could.

At the first touch of healing those blood-encrusted eyes opened. Hitsugaya espied her beside him.

"We did it?"

"Yes, Captain." She threw a troubled look at where the horseman remained unmoving, minus a head. There was no further action on its part. "Drawing his attention to yourself so I could move freely was not the most inspired tactic. But you were correct. Luisenbarn was indeed a composite entity. We needed only to separate the core from its component parts. A sound strategy. I commend you."

"You guessed which it was." He kept his sentences clipped so as not to interfere in the healing.

She smiled in return. "Actually, we have Ichigo's sisters to thank. They shared with me some very valuable advice derived from the vi-de-o games: 'When in doubt, aim for the head that talks'. We are fortunate my Third Dance was strong enough to accomplish even that much."

_You are fortunate we zanpakutō could communicate unobserved to share this battle plan. _

_And you're lucky to be alive, dragon._

_Mutual respect and cooperation won this battle, young lady. Luck mattered very little. _

_If you weren't older than dirt, I'd be tempted to call you a bald-faced liar._

Their soul cutters continued to argue on the periphery of both their consciousness. For his part the boy captain's attention remained fixed on the motionless _arrancar_. A slight exhalation through his nose was the only sign of the immense pain Hitsugaya now experienced. Otherwise his face was cold as ice. "We should leave. No telling if he can come back from this… or when."

"This healing will take time."

"Just patch me up!" A bit of agony leaked through, making him snap. He recovered and made an effort to remain reserved. "There's a new danger."

The girl's face grew somber then. "Forgive me, Captain. I did not intend to delay my counterattack so long once you were hit. Only this reiatsu_…_" She swallowed then, sweat dripping down her throat. "It was hard for me to move in it. I feel like I am being crushed even now."

His emerald eyes locked with hers. He could see the effort she was making not to appear overwhelmed by that sickening force which still threatened to subsume them both. More than this, though, a palpable sense of unease had become visible in her manner which no amount of noble discipline could completely hide.

_Will you dare to ask?_

Will she admit the truth?

"Rukia-san."

She did not look away. "Sir?"

It felt rude to badger the princess like this. Perhaps a result of his time spent at Kuchiki manor. But the more immediate trauma helped override any sense of decorum. Discretion had never been a hallmark of his personality anyway. "Do you recognize it?"

Rukia swallowed before speaking next. "Yes, sir. And if I am correct, I understand that we must do our duty… as shinigami."

Thanks to the healing it no longer felt like he was missing a lung. Somehow, though, the sight of her barely contained grief felt worse. Quickly Tōshirō opened his mouth to offer some comfort.

Rukia hit the ground beside him. She drew in a gasp of air which emerged again as a scream from her throat. A huge red hand pressing on her back squeezed harder, eliciting further cries.

"**Down, girl."**

The _Espada _stood bestride them. His head was back. Only now, it was where you might normally expect it to be: on his neck. An even greater difference was that far more than just a skull gazed down at them. There had emerged a face, still composed of blood but with eyes and mouth that smirked cruelly. Very beautiful. Very cold. The face of a predator, one Hitsugaya recognized. He had seen it before, during the Autumn War, when he fought what turned out to be nothing more than an illusion concocted out of his worst fears.

Tia Halibel crooked a smile filled with teeth made of frozen blood at her two soon-to-be victims. **"Give us a kiss," **the _Segunda _chuckled, and bent down with hungry mouth wide.

* * *

><p>Keigo looked around the royal chambers. As far as they could tell, there was nothing overtly threatening to be found here. If you discounted the swimming pool filled with blood, of course. A bath of blood. Bloodbath. Funny. That tube from before was emerging out of it. Other than this very little caught the eye. Blue flames burned in sconces, illuminating a clear space the size of a hockey stadium. The ceiling might have been domed; it was impossible to tell, since there was something that looked to be a carnival tent top high overhead with its edges anchored to the walls. He could find no conceivable explanation for this and so chose to ignore it. Two other passages led out of here other than the one they had entered through. And that pretty much capped the checklist.<p>

"So now what do we do?"

"Keep your voice down."

"What? Your power seems to be working. I'm willing to bet it can't hear us."

"Care to bet your life on that?"

Ryō and Mizuiro stood within two paces of him. Kunieda had agreed to stop holding hands but insisted the boys maintain a fairly intimate degree of closeness with her. Normally Keigo would have had no complaints on that subject. Now, however, he was starting to feel just a tad uncomfortable with the whole scenario. And Mizuiro was right; now that they were here, what were they supposed to do? Look for their friends? Try to find a way out? There certainly didn't seem much that could be accomplished hanging around here.

While he was thinking this, something rose from the pool.

Keigo gave a yelp upon spotting it. Immediately he felt Kunieda's hand clamp firmly on his shoulder. The same was true for Mizuiro. The three of them now clustered much closer together and kept very still. No more words were spoken. Even breathing might have been considered fatal at this point.

It was another tentacle, larger than before but otherwise just the same. This new protrusion emerged from its fount and turned towards one of the other tunnels. As it did, though, the glistening worm paused. It turned from side to side slowly, like it was scanning the environment. Asano desperately prayed to be overlooked, a state of mind honed to artistic depths from long experience with playground bullies. Stay out of sight, don't catch their eye, don't make waves. This is the playbook of the coward. The weakling. The nothing.

After a few seconds, and to his great relief, the worm did not appear to locate them. With that it shot towards the tunnel with frightening speed to disappear into those mysterious depths. Keigo relaxed, letting out his breath with a shaky sigh. His arms were trembling, and unless he missed his guess, so were Ryō's. Kinda nice to know she was human after all. Maybe when all this was over they might actually hook up.

A nothing.

No. Stop that. Whatever just happened, it can't be good. Somebody might even be dying because of it. And I'm just standing here doing nothing.

Being nothing.

Keigo frowned. He closed his eyes.

"Okay." Mizuiro spoke very softly beside them. Though he managed to sound quite relaxed about their current situation, having known his friend for a while, it was evident the charming teen was not so sanguine as might first appear. "Any ideas what that's all about?"

"If we follow it," their leader mused cautiously, "we might find where the others are being kept."

"Beats hanging around here. Asano-san, you ready to vacate?"

No reply came.

"Asano-san?"

He did not respond. The other two exchanged glances Keigo did not see. And that was because… he was thinking.

I am _not_ nothing. I am not a nobody. Maybe that's how I've been forced to live for the last few years, but… it isn't the truth. No one forced me to walk in here. I made that choice. Because I am resolved not to die a coward, at the very least. Mizuiro said I'm smart, and he's my friend. He wouldn't lie. I am smart. I know it. So for maybe the first time in my whole post-pubescent school life, let me see if that can't be put to good use.

What do I know? I'm trapped in an underground Hollow nest in an alternate dimension. Two people are with me, and by all accounts at least two more of us have been captured. We're smack dab at the heart of this evil organization, though. Our friends from Soul Society might be trying to reach us. Ichigo could be fighting for his life right now. Is there anything we can possibly do here that would make a difference in that?

His head tilted back, and he exhaled slowly. Come on. Think.

"Keigo? Are you sick or something?"

At this his eyes opened, and he found himself staring at the ceiling. Or at least, that big tarp stretched above them. He frowned. What the hell was that for, anyway? Was there a way out up past it? It had to serve a purpose. Why would the Hollows put a tent over this cavern? Did it have something to do with guarding the place?

There came a soft sound behind them. Quickly he turned around. Nothing presented itself at first sight, but then he saw over by the wall there was sand trickling down. Not much, but enough to leave a trail of silvery grains across the polished floor. Looking up, he noticed that the anchor points for that tarp left spaces open between it and the wall. Sand must have fallen from above and slid down the material to an out of the way spot.

The sight caused him to remember something. Those Hollows that first caught them had been worried about leaving a hole in the roof. Making a mess. It had actually scared them. And on the way here… hadn't he noticed a few of those monsters sweeping up sand, of all things? Why would they be doing that? What could motivate bloodthirsty killers to become janitors? Were they afraid? And of what? Well, that blood demon, for starters. All orders probably derived from it. So if A equals B, and B equals C, then King Clot told them to get rid of any sand.

Am I crazy for thinking this is important? Would it be stupid to find out?

'_I want to know.' _That's what Mizuiro said earlier. Well, now _I _want to know. And the only way to find out is to try. That's right. Here goes nothing.

"I've got an idea."

The other two looked at him in frank incomprehension. Meanwhile Asano was squirming his toes carefully. Yup, still feels like I'm lugging about two pounds in each shoe. There wasn't a chance to empty them out before. That might just be what it takes. But I want to be certain if I'm going to commit myself.

So resolved, he bent down and carefully removed his footwear.

"Uh, Asano-san?" Mizuiro sounded doubtful for a change. "If you wanted to be polite, I think you should have done that _before_ we came in here."

Keigo ignored this. He began to carefully pour the contents of one loafer into another. Don't spill any. Yeah, looking good. "Do you guys have any sand left in your shoes or pockets?"

"Sand?" They both said it at once. It was clear neither had made the same deductive journey as he had embarked on to reach this conclusion. Which might indicate he had gone crazy and his plan was nuts. Let's test that, shall we?

"Yes, sand." Having completed his own preparations as well as able, he then looked expectantly at them. For good measure he kept his face politely blank so as not to lend credence to the very real possibility that this might prove to be a sick joke. "If you have any, pour it into this shoe. Try not to spill it. Like I said, I've got an idea."

* * *

><p>The pipeline of blood shot down dark passages without need of light. In a matter of moments this sending had reached its destination, coming out in Barragan's former trophy room, an ossuary now converted into a sort of long-term recuperation center. Or a hospice, depending on how you wanted to look at it.<p>

At the end of the crypt the only occupant remained confined to a crevice dug out of the wall. The tendril approached, only to pause once again. Didn't Lagrima say she had left two of the vessels incapacitated here? A stupid breach of security if ever she heard one. But if so, where had they gone? Why were they not present? Judging by his condition it certainly didn't look as if he had eaten them.

Ah. No matter. She had more immediate concerns.

On the very end of the bloodline, the face of Tia Halibel formed. Like a cobra swaying from side to side, she hovered over the wreck of her associate. Crumbling eyes flickered in recognition. Well, at least he wasn't dead. More than usual, anyway.

"**We have a problem, brother," **the _scylla _informed him. **"I require your help to resolve it. Do you feel who I am talking about?"**

The faintest whisper of sound came from that caved-in chest.

_Yes._

There was something deliciously pleasant about his tone. It spoke of hatred that remained white hot in spite of everything which had transpired to him, stirring her endless hunger with its sweet familiarity. She smiled in satisfaction. **"I'll need to give you a transfusion of sorts. Some of my essence now resides within you anyway. It should be enough to allow you to accept more, as well as operate independently, a feature I sadly lack in this state. Bear in mind, this is strictly temporary. And if I lose my connection to this plane, you will revert back to normal."**

Her head bent until they were eye to eye.

"**I have no time to be gentle. Prepare to be filled."**

With that, she kissed him savagely. Her eyes flared with emerald radiance that lit the tomb. Green energy shot from her mouth into the vampire. His crumbling body writhed on the verge of breaking apart utterly. But against all reason or sanity, he held on. A will of superhuman caliber animated this thing, and it was this that seized upon the violent gift that had been offered, drinking it down like a shipwrecked man swallowing seawater in a desperate mania to stay alive. The nature of this force was almost as fatal, but still… it felt so good to be glutted like this, he no longer cared what the end result might be.

Eventually Halibel drew back to observe the results of her sacrifice. Ah. Much better.

Before her, the previous undead invalid rose off his bed. Ash had transformed into sleek flesh and bone. A sound of rustling leather echoed through those grim confines. In the dark, green eyes glowed like a cat's.

Without further ado, the resurrected nightwalker flashed down the tunnel in search of his prey.

Behind it, Halibel's head smiled. And turned to dust.

* * *

><p>"Can you slow down before I barf?" Tatsuki demanded.<p>

Tearing down junctions and passageways at Mach 8, Kon flicked a glance over his shoulder. "Just close your eyes. It helps. Chizuru figured that out already. See?"

"She's passed out, you moron."

"What?" Their turbo-charged taxi peered at the girl curled limply in his arms. She did indeed appear to have lost consciousness. A brief curse escaped his lips. "The suit's supposed to create a barrier that diminishes the g-forces for passengers. Did I put it on wrong? Shoot! Wish I understood this science stuff better. Whoops!"

Their ride gave a short jump before landing to pick up the pace without pause. "Sorry. Rockslide. Wasn't here earlier. Good thing somebody already cleared it, huh?"

For her part Tatsuki had taken his advice and closed her eyes by this point. It didn't help. The only light down here came from Kon's new duds, and that was barely faint enough to let her distinguish a few inches in any direction. She couldn't really see the environment racing by like a fast-forwarded movie. But that didn't keep her from feeling it. When would this ordeal end? And more importantly…

"Do you even know where you're going, Kon?"

"Don't worry." The mod soul grinned. "My eyes are designed to detect a specific low-level energy left by my footprints. I've been following the trail I left behind! I figure in just a few seconds I'll have you out of here and up top where the shinigami are gathering! Then I'll come back for the others."

They might really be out of danger. That sounded pretty good right about now. At the very least Kon wasn't treating her like… well, like he was just a short while ago. Tatsuki would make a point about discussing that with him later. Explain a few things. Maybe even apologize if it came to that. Strange to think she found herself disturbed by the thought that he might think less of her as a result of what she said back there. Granted there had been the excuse of intense pain and a truly traumatic experience behind it, but still… being rescued by someone she had thought of as just above comic relief prior to all this served as a reminder that people could surprise you. Even yourself.

I never thought I was a killer either.

"Score! There's our way out!"

Tatsuki opened her eyes. Light gleamed up ahead. Were they almost free? She could have kissed Kon. Had it been necessary to make a list of all the people who might have rescued them, she had to admit his name would not have been high in the rankings. And that left the grateful girl just a teensy bit guilty. If he was going to leave them soon in order to throw himself into more danger, she felt it necessary to make one point clear prior to parting.

"Kon, I never…"

"Oh _hell!"_

"Wazzat? M'I asleep?"

They skidded to a halt. Kon's body was practically rumbling as he exercised some tap-dancing move with his legs that let the human missile halt without his passengers getting launched through the air.

Tatsuki's eyes widened. It sounded like Chizuru was coming around. The three of them were in the middle of a big borehole. Part of the ceiling had collapsed, allowing the faint light of Hueco Mundo's sky to come in and let her see. The possibility of escape did not cross her mind. What was happening here drew the attention of everyone still awake. What little she could make out, that is.

The enormous Hollow Berrinholtz gave a frustrated howl as it smashed sparking mitts deep into the stone, sending up a blaze of ochre energy. Rangiku Matsumoto had already moved to appear behind him. She swung what looked to be an empty sword hilt, but if you looked closely, there was a sort of mist barely visible in the dim light which acted in response to the beautiful blonde's movements. This swarmed around the titan with the liquid grace of a cat, pouncing to engulf its head. Chips and cracks appeared in the mask and a bone ear flew off to clatter against the floor. Still the undead monstrosity only roared anew and rotated on the big black ball of its midsection to face its opponent, seemingly undaunted by this wicked means of assault.

As they watched, another Hollow materialized near Rangiku. This one was human-sized, only with great pincers for hands and a long waving scorpion tail emerging from the small of her back. The poisonous tip glowed scarlet as it jabbed at Rangiku fast enough to leave lagging red after-images in its wake. Their ostensive ally countered with a shimmering translucent shield on one forearm. The interchange was too fast for Tatsuki to follow, but when shinigami and Hollow reemerged in her field of vision a few yards off, Matsumoto was sporting no injuries she could see, and the Hollow was now on the run from that mist attack.

"_Feliz atterizajes!"_

Something exploded into the floor several yards away to raise a big cloud of dust. If you looked carefully there seemed to be a long red line coming out of the haze, but this disappeared so swiftly as to leave one doubting their senses. Instead as the haze settled around that fresh-dug pit there was revealed another small Hollow reminiscent of her partner, only with a much longer segmented tail and whip-like arm extensions of similar design. She awkwardly attempted to extricate herself without success. Drawing in a deep breath the _arrancar _bellowed, "YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

Halfway across the room a kid in white shirt and dress pants dropped down to earth. He grinned with utmost mischief, white teeth gleaming against caramel skin while he leaned lazily against a _bo_ staff.

"C'mon, _bonita. _I told you that would happen, didn't I?"

"_NOBORU?!" _Kon screeched. He was so shocked he actually let go of Chizuru, who gave a painful yelp as she landed, apparently now fully roused from slumber.

In response the preteen seemed to notice them. "Kon?" Noboru Kouki came upright, his staff now at the ready and no longer looking quite so cocky. "How did you get here?"

"How did _you?"_

At this point Berrinholtz turned and spotted the newcomers as well. It rumbled softly before lifting its arms which began to rotate at the elbows like drills. Sparks flew from every joint and the eyes now reminded her of fireworks on _hanabi. _Huge conical feet pounded the floor in readiness.

"Grow!"

Berrinholtz launched forward, but the Hollow had not proceeded one step before it tripped over a red pole which now traversed the entire length of the cave, golden tips anchored firmly against the walls. It hit the floor with a boom. The light show died out instantly.

The next thing Arisawa knew Noboru was standing beside them. "You were saying?" he asked.

Everyone, including Tatsuki, stared at the boy. They all knew him. He was another of Rukia's employees at the Usagi Shoten, just like Kon. She had been fairly certain he might be a shinigami, or at least not human, considering he lived in a house of the living dead. But to suspect and to have it proven were two different things.

Farther back the first enemy he took down finally rose upright with a scream, bone tentacles snapping and ready to strike. Without looking behind him Noboru suddenly yanked his arm up. Only then did Tatsuki notice the crackling line of yellow energy held in one fist. The other end was attached to that Hollow's ankle, and as he pulled, she lost her balance and toppled backwards into the pit with a yell.

That was definitely a soul cutter he was sporting, and that bit with the pratfall looked like kidō even to an untrained eye. Noboru then finally spied her strapped to the mod's back. "Oh, hey, it's the angry one. _Hola, furiosa! _Talk about real nightmares, eh?"

"Will you quit screwing around?" Kon glared at his coworker reproachfully. "We need to get them out of here. They're in danger!"

"What, from these goofballs? C'mon!"

As if to emphasize this a scream sounded. When they looked to find its source a claw went clattering across the floor leaving a trail of blood behind. Not far off the scorpion girl was frantically scooting backwards in an impression of how crabs walk. This was made more awkward by the fact that her left arm ended in a bleeding stump which she now cradled to her chest. Rangiku Matsumoto trailed slowly after, the lethal grey mist whipping about its mistress. Her face gave Tatsuki chills. Pure condemnation. Like that of an executioner. Regardless of what anyone had to say on the subject, those black robes and merciless cold blue eyes could only belong to a true god of death. At seeing this the panicked monster girl snatched up her severed claw and scuttled towards where her fellow arachnid was trying to get up only to take another tumble courtesy of Noboru's rope.

Kon gave a shiver and broke off from staring to chastise his younger associate again. "Look, there are more girls lost and until we find them I need you to-"

Right as he spoke Berrinholtz came up with another deafening roar, a _Cero _building in its jaws.

"Oh, _screw this!"_

Everything happened so fast. Next thing she knew Tatsuki was moving again. The giant bear loomed above them. Then she was spinning, or Kon was, his foot coming around in a blaze of yellow energy like a match snapping to light.

She heard it hit, followed by that two-story titan impacting against the cave wall hard enough to leave a Hollow-shaped hole behind it. Berrinholtz slumped in a loose-limbed heap.

Tatsuki's head was in a whirl. It felt like she might pass out for a second. Through the disorientation she heard Kon declare, "Down but not out, ugly. Unless you want that to change, keep trying." Despite what she knew about his aversion to killing, the champion black belt couldn't help but be daunted by that threat. She wasn't the only one. When she twisted around in her sling, it was to find Noboru standing frozen, his mouth slack. It seemed even Rangiku was impressed judging by her raised eyebrow.

However, while they were all distracted, Arisawa noticed the two Hollow girls had reached one another. They clasped hands, and as they did so, both intoned, "Merge, _Kodoku!"_

At this a fey light gleamed in each of their empty black mask sockets, followed by a sharp spike in reiatsu. The same deadly aura now surrounded both such that it lit the whole chamber with its power. Inside that blending poison loci, the shape of the twin Hollows began to change, growing larger and flowing into one another.

Rangiku cursed and began to chant some kind of spell, while Noboru sent his power pole arcing towards them, only to give a yell and quickly draw it back, the golden tip smoking and melted. Chizuru had crawled off and was crouched down with her back to the display. Tatsuki could relate, as she felt a primordial terror that made her bones shiver.

And as for Kon?

He just sighed. Without turning around, the mod soul declared in a strong, clear voice, "Loly! Menoly!"

At the center of the terrifying transfiguration, two heads turned in surprise.

"I won't kill you."

A pair of sharp gasps echoed through the chamber. At this, Kon finally swiveled to look at them, taking Tatsuki with him. Face lit red by the crescendo of unnatural energy, his voice was deathly calm. Almost friendly.

"Not if you leave," he said with no hint of wrath. "And not if you stay."

Then the big teenager took a step forward.

Tatsuki had never seen anyone run so fast. The only thing left was a smoking hole in the wall to mark their retreat. Seems the battle was finally over.

At least it appeared that way, until that moron Berrinholtz once more lurched upright. His arms, legs and head were separated from his body, all hovering independently around one another and sparking wildly. No obvious damage from Kon's attack was evident. Vicious snarls and drool emerged from its fangs. The three remaining fighters turned to face this seemingly unstoppable opponent. The whole thing just made Tatsuki sick. Will it never _end?_

Over the tumult, a deep musical B flat sounded, throbbing like a bell in a cathedral.

When it did, the Huge Hollow went still. Its light show winked out. Once more the note tolled, and this time the brute shuddered in every part. Then it happened yet again. A violent spasm rocked that gargantuan puppet, followed by a gruesome whine.

Astonished, everyone found themselves looking at Chizuru Honsho, down on her knees and clutching Lagrima's harp. The haggard redhead was carefully plucking one string in particular. Whenever she did, that funeral knell echoed, and Berrinholtz contorted in obvious agony. Without warning the skull and limbs dropped with a noisy clamor to lie spent. Only the torso remained floating upright. Tatsuki found herself staring at that big black marble which composed the beast's midsection. Was it her imagination, or did it seem like…?

At the next note, the ebony sphere cracked. Blood came oozing out. Berrinholtz _screamed!_

Now Chizuru was off. She hit that B flat like a coked up American rock star onstage at Woodstock, fingers almost seeming to blur until it sounded like one long sustained note with Berrinholtz squealing as the backdrop. The Hollow was jerking back and forth in midair. Further fractures appeared on the marble surface from which crimson liquid seeped. Out of nowhere a maddened wail of unsurpassed volume came from the creature. On and on this went, sounding utterly unhinged. When it finally gave out, the monster dropped, rocking ever so slightly before finally coming to rest. It did not move.

At last Chizuru stopped playing. She was breathing hard, but a triumphant smile still lit her face. Their unexpected savior picked up on the astonished looks she was getting and shrugged. "When that Hollow lady knocked out Tatsuki-chan… she did it just by playing one string," she gasped. "And then… right afterwards… to get Ursa Major over there to listen… she played another. Looked like… it hurt. So I figured… maybe it's one string tuned to… one specific person. How else could she… control that monster? And waddaya know! I was… right!"

"You kids really are something," Matsumoto declared while sheathing her sword. Her gaze traveled to where Kon stood, and a full-blown smile made her look even more astonishingly beautiful. "That goes for you too, Kon. Very slick moves. Maybe even enough to forgive you for that rough treatment earlier."

His chest noticeably swelled at this praise, at which point he gave a sudden cough. "Well, thanks, Matsumoto-san. Just for that, I might be willing to testify at your trial. Unless you really think you're getting past all those shinigami we feel up top." The teenage mod passed an arm over his forehead, which had begun to perspire heavily. Tatsuki was finding it a little hard to catch her breath too. All that moving must have worn them both out.

"Got it covered, Speedy Gonzales." So saying, she held up a pink scarf, smiling gamely.

Kon blanched. He looked down at his arm where no such accessory now hung. "How did…?" Another cough, harsher than before. Tatsuki frowned. Was he sick? It was really starting to feel that way for her too. Like she might vomit.

"You're not the only one who can move quickly when they need to. And don't bother coming at me again." She patted the soul cutter at her side. "No gigai to restrain me now. You couldn't even get close."

"This mean you're dumping me, _Tetas?" _Noboru called out.

Rangiku cast him a wink. " 'Fraid so, kiddo. Our paths must part. Now you two get these little girls out of here while I get back to my original…"

Kon collapsed.

He just crumpled. Like his head was bashed with a shovel. Tatsuki slid out of her seat and rolled a few paces. She could do nothing to stop it. Her body had stopped functioning again. All she could do was tremble uncontrollably as it felt like gravity in the room had quadrupled in the last few seconds.

Kon crouched on his hands and knees. A horrible gasping sound emerged from his throat. Sweat poured off his face like he was having a heart attack. He looked as bad as she felt. His head turned, and he looked at her in absolute horror.

"**Well, slap my ass and call me Strawberry if that don't beat all!"**

The voice came from behind. When Tatsuki looked to see who had spoken, she could have screamed.

Something crouched atop the avalanche which led to the hole in the cavern roof. It had the form of a human, but no one in their right mind would have mistaken it for such. Nearly everything about it was white, from the Karakura High school uniform to its short-cropped spiky hair. Pitch black teeth were bared in an unholy grin. Two midnight eyes with yellow pupils stared chillingly at them.

Tatsuki did not let that horribly familiar face deceive her. No resemblance, however total, could hide this creature's true nature. She would have known even if Rukia hadn't explained it to her earlier today. What perched before them was not her childhood friend. It was absolutely _not_ Ichigo Kurosaki.

It was his Hollow, the one which had haunted Tatsuki's dreams for months.

As if sensing these thoughts, the Hollow looked straight at her. **"Hey, Tatsuki. Long time no see."**

She could say nothing. Nor could she find the strength to move. Tatsuki Arisawa just lay there on her side, horror-stricken. It happened. He got eaten by the thing. And now it's come to kill us all.

Orihime, wherever you are… run.

Berrinholtz chose that moment to come awake. The pieces of its body flew forward, reconnecting as they did. Reformed, the beast slavered madly. A bloody froth was leaking from its marble core and out of both eyes and mouth. There was no more roaring. It simply charged at the closest living thing, which just happened to be Ichigo's dark side. The Hollow turned to face it.

A second later there was another hole in the roof, and Berrinholtz was gone.

"… to embalm the fallen: BAKUDŌ 99: KIN!"

Rangiku Matsumoto fairly roared these words. At the same time Noboru's nyoibo staff rocketed across the room to strike the Hollow in its forehead, sending its neck snapping back. Black strips of cloth were wrapping around its arms in a jerky fashion before growing taut. Several metal discs slammed these bindings to the floor. Tatsuki could hear Matsumoto murmuring something else. Her voice sounded shaky. Had she been able to crane her neck, the girl felt certain she would see fear for the very first time on that gorgeous face.

The Hollow simply flexed its arms, and the bindings tore, sending shards of metal shooting everywhere. The honey-haired sorceress stuttered to a halt and drew her zanpakutō.

"**I don't have time for this shit," **the fallen soul croaked. It then gave a sort of twitch.

In this position Tatsuki couldn't see what else might be happening, but there were no further sounds of battle. A low buzzing now filled her ears. It felt as if something very heavy was sitting on her chest while strangling her. Was absolutely everyone else experiencing the same debilitation now? Her skin was crawling, bringing pain flashbacks from what she had undergone with Lagrima.

In an odd way, though, this helped her to deal with it. And the sensation of being assaulted by her very environment was not a new one. She had experienced the exact same thing the first time she met an _arrancar. _And in addition to all this, Tatsuki Arisawa knew with utmost clarity that if she let herself go limp and helpless like she had been for the last few hours, this time she would assuredly die.

Get up. Get up and _fight!_

Her body felt like hell. All the same, to her immense satisfaction the martial artist managed to leverage herself up onto one elbow. It didn't get any easier from there, but that didn't make a damn bit of difference. As if waiting for this, Kon arose beside her. Despite a very obvious shaking, he whirled again, sending even greater bolts of ochre power from his feet. An explosion sounded. The speed freak disappeared soon after with a slight sonic boom.

Almost immediately Kon hurtled past her again. Droplets of blood spattered in his wake, and she heard him land. It sounded bad.

Meanwhile Tatsuki took this opportunity. No way was she going to die flat on her ass. Anger had returned. At this situation, at certain people she blamed, and most especially at that noxious monster which had been robbing her of sleep lately. It hurt Kon! Get up and beat its rotten black teeth in! Tatsuki swiveled her leaden legs around and pressed a hand against the floor. Teeth gritted, muscles straining under that suffocating morass of spiritual intensity, she finally managed to lift her exhausted frame off the ground.

The black belt remained in a crouch. Gasping for air that seemed to be in short supply, Arisawa looked behind her. She spotted Chizuru first. Her classmate looked to be unconscious again. A great glass rectangle covered her and Rangiku, who had dropped to one knee, clutching her chest as she gasped out more spells. What looked like a small brown monkey was attempting to drag Kon further behind the barrier.

The mod soul's arm was missing.

"**Looking for this?"**

It was standing right in front of her, holding Kon's severed limb. With utmost care, the monster leaned down and wiped that bloody stump slowly down her face. The taste and smell of it made her rage burn hotter. She locked eyes with that vile grinning atrocity.

"I'll kill you," Tatsuki whispered softly.

"**Yeah, bullshit." **The Hollow dropped the arm and reached down to grab a fistful of her shirt. It then brought the girl up to dangle before it. Its breath was coming very fast. She could feel the Hollow trembling with excitement.

Tatsuki made an attempt to kick it in the crotch. Instead all that happened was it grabbed her leg, leaving her hanging in an even more awkward position. The touch of its skin was ice cold. Still holding on firmly, the Hollow chuckled as she struggled in vain.

"**Damn," **it gasped gleefully. **"Shit, shit, **_**shit! **_**I really wanted to take my time with you guys. Really, I did! But it took too damn long to get here. You might be all I get, Tatsuki. You and the little lesbian over there and she hardly counts. Still, even that might be enough. But there's something I just gotta say to **_**you."**_

It brought her closer, so that their faces were only an inch apart. The smile it wore now made her want to tear its damn head off.

"**Ichigo doesn't think of you as a woman. Did you know that? In his head, you're practically a guy. He's never even imagined fucking you once, front or back. Sometimes I think he forgets you even exist. You're that unimportant to him."**

"**So that's that. Anything **_**you**_** want **_**him**_** to know next time I see him? You're about to die, so make it count."**

"Eat shit," she rasped back, "and die."

"**I'll tell him you said that. Bye now!"**

Two black hands seized the Hollow's wrists.

"No."

Tatsuki then found herself falling slowly earthwards in a world tinted vibrant emerald green. She could hear the Hollow screaming. What the hell? Am I dead?

She landed on her butt, which hurt. It also informed her that she was still among the living… or whatever this counted as. Time seemed to have gotten back to normal as well. So what's the big surprise now? This whole experience had been utterly draining such that she didn't even have it in her to be mad anymore. Screw it. I don't care. With a sort of weary disinterest, Tatsuki looked up.

Green eyes made her remember how it felt to be afraid.

The arms and legs were black with wicked talons. A hole in its bone-white chest wept ebon blood, and a pointed tail swept the air restlessly. Two enormous black wings were folded on its back. The horned head rose. Tears poured from lifeless black and green eyes. The creature seemingly took no notice of Tatsuki when it spoke next.

"They are mine."

"**NO!"**

She turned her head. The Hollow was now halfway across the hall. Its shirt was gone, the skin of its chest bloodied and charred. In addition, the thing looked absolutely unhinged. Eyes flung wide, black drool running down its chin and long tongue flicking out. It jerked upright and let loose an earth-shattering wail, like a kid whose favorite toy had been broken. It was crying too.

"**NO! NO NO **_**NO! **_**THIS IS BULLSHIT! FUCKING BULLSHIT! YOU'RE DEAD! HE KILLED YOU! HE FUCKING KILLED YOU! FUCK YOU, YOU CAN'T BE HERE, GODDAMMIT, **_**WHY WON'T YOU DIE?!"**_

"Because…"

Vast pinions shot out to their full wingspread.

"… I am better than you."

With that, the _vasto lorde _shot forward in a flash to catch the Hollow by its throat. He then banked sharply upwards, smashing through the ceiling like it was paper. Sand and debris fell all around. Tatsuki stared in abject disbelief at what she had just witnessed. The world really had gone insane.

That was Ulquiorra Schiffer.

Then she noticed the tang of blood still in her nose, and it hit her. Kon! But just as she remembered, a voice cried, "OI! Tatsuki-chan! Chizuru-chan! Up here!"

When she looked where indicated, Arisawa noticed several shinigami scrambling down the landslide. At the top of the hole, Ochi-sensei waved cheerfully. "Hey! You guys all right down there? Because it is _crazy_ up here!"

"Go with them."

She looked behind her to see Kon wavering upright, a white bandage wrapped tightly around the stump of his arm. His face was pale, but determined. Chizuru still lay beside him. Of Matsumoto there was no sign.

"She took off," the mod soul explained. "Noboru went after her before I could stop him. I'm gonna follow and make sure everybody's safe. You and Chizuru go with the shinigami for now. They'll protect you. I'll be back soon."

"Holy shit, Kon," Tatsuki sobbed, tears pouring from her eyes. "You got fucking dismembered! Just rest, why don't you? The shinigami'll take care of it, right?"

The pale mod only gave a shake of his head. "Can't do that. This isn't over. And Rukia's down here. I can tell; she needs my help. Just… don't worry about me, okay? I'll be all right."

With that he sped off into one of the tunnels without another word.

Several death gods appeared around her, asking all sorts of questions, none of which she cared to respond to now even if she had all the answers. Instead Tatsuki mechanically knelt and picked up Kon's arm. Holding it tenderly, she moved towards the exit beckoning high overhead.

I can't do any more. Please just let this all work out.

* * *

><p>Ryō waved to indicate her readiness while holding Mizuiro's loafer. Having taken up their own position, the two boys nodded. They didn't dare speak. Separating like this had not drawn the demon god's attention that they could tell, but best not to take chances. Perhaps it could only focus on a limited area of its surroundings, not everywhere the blood was present? That makes sense. Good for us.<p>

The architect of this crazy plot considered. If this worked, it would undoubtedly make the Hollow aware of them. For that reason Kunieda had called dibs on the second pipe. Being a track star, she would require the least time to make it back to the other two and cover them with her power. Hopefully it wouldn't sniff them out in the interim. Or after, for that matter. Who knows how this might work? But at the very least… they had tried.

Keigo looked at Mizuiro, who smiled in a way that demonstrated his confidence in the plan. The cheerful womanizer then raised three fingers on high for all to see before ticking them off.

3-2-1-_GO!_

Let's see if this gets anybody's attention, Keigo thought.

Shaking uncontrollably, he poured the contents of his shoe directly onto the first ribbon of blood.

* * *

><p>Hitsugaya lunged weakly for the closest weapon, this being Rukia's zanpakutō. An unfamiliar sense of shivering cold rushed through him as his fingers closed over the handle.<p>

Make this work!

_We will._

_Save her, please!_

Strength surged through his body as the soul cutters forged a connection the only way they could; through ice. A round white pane of it formed behind him, reflecting everything in its depths. The image of the gloating _vasto lorde _stood out in frozen relief. At the same time, filigrees of frost began to snake all over her form. To this she gave him a contemptuous look; even her component steed shook its fleshless head and snorted derisively.

"**Still do not see it's impossible, hmm?" **Halibel intoned while leaning down on the helpless Rukia. **"Then I will give you a final demonstration of the difference between shinigami and us." **A proliferation of fanged serpents blossomed from her back, their mouths opened wide in readiness to tear him to pieces.

Hitsugaya prepared to sell his life dearly. At seeing his stalwart determination, the Hollow goddess smiled, before promptly turning to dust.

The boy braced himself, uncertain of what this might portend. What kind of strange new attack lay in store for him now?

Only when he saw Rukia leap up with utter incomprehension written on her face did it occur to him this might not be some new means of slaughtering them. Both shinigami stared at the spot their enemy previously occupied. It had happened so fast. One second the ancient monstrosity was preparing to devour them. And in the next the whole thing– horse, snakes and rider– all slid into a pile of reddish dust on the floor. There was nothing to even indicate it had ever been alive.

"Did you do that, Captain?" Rukia hazarded.

Tōshirō was no less perplexed than her. What could be the cause of this? Still not letting his guard down, he advanced a step closer. No reaction. Examining the remains more closely, something caught his eye. Trailing from the main mound back into the cavern from which it came was a long line of the same grist. He then spotted another such stream snaking over to the tunnel which Halibel had previously blocked up. There too lay a heap of red particles before the open exit.

"This wasn't the main body," he realized suddenly. "It was just another extension she made to reach us! It must have been cut off somehow." All around small patches of dried up blood littered the cavern. From the shards I froze! She couldn't hold onto them all, and the ones that broke free immediately turned to dust when she wasn't connected to them! I was so busy fighting her I didn't realize!

"Captain." Beside him Lieutenant Kuchiki was now holding out Hyōrinmaru. Wordlessly the icy warrior accepted his weapon while returning her own.

_Thank you._

Their brief connection parted. The ice mirror at his back dissolved away. Now reunited with their proper blades, the two shinigami looked to one another. Perhaps some measure of communion still lay between them, for each nodded before taking off to follow the trail of powder which would lead to the source of this horror.

As they ran, Hitsugaya still felt the unwholesome aura that he knew presaged Rukia's worst nightmare. Before confronting that, though, they had to learn where things stood in terms of the _vasto lorde. _Both could sense other shinigami close at hand now. The assault must have begun. Learning what, if anything, might have balked the _Espada _might be the greatest contribution they could make to those who were not yet aware of her presence. No time for hell butterflies or any such things. They could not leave such a dangerous factor unquantified. This may prove to be their only chance, and as such there was no time to waste.

So determined, they followed the trail.

* * *

><p>As soon as the sand touched it, Keigo's blood-line was chopped in half. The part leading out turned to dust in the blink of an eye, while its other half connected to the pool remained unaffected, only jerked back like a split fishing line. The movement almost took his arm off, and he collapsed with a cry. Mizuiro crouched beside him. Wide-eyed, he watched the tendril retract swiftly into the blood-bath.<p>

That dark-red expanse churned into a bloody boil. Keigo almost fainted when a giant burst forth from its frothing depths.

Vaguely he was aware of Kunieda racing towards them to fling herself atop both boys. Falling back, he could still perceive this new threat, so high did it reach. It's a woman, his brain finally realized. A woman, made of blood, and… she's…

Naked.

Boy, was she ever naked.

While this fact was claiming all Keigo Asano's suddenly undivided attention, the gleaming red titan looked wildly around. Her shoulder-length carmine tresses framed a face of stunning beauty, but so twisted by the fiercest rage that the combination of threat and yearning almost stopped his heart. She did not emerge fully from the lake, coming up only to the hips. There was a hole in her stomach that they could look right through. Hefty breasts were swollen with blood, another disturbing combination that made his stomach churn and heart pound double-time. There seemed to be spines emerging from the ogress' back interwoven into strange designs. And all of this was soaring almost thirty feet into the air.

None of the three students moved. They just lay there, hoping that Intimidation ability would be up to snuff. Meanwhile the devil woman hadn't seemed to notice them. Instead she bent quickly down to examine where Kunieda's handiwork had left a dried red trail leading off into the tunnel. Her head jerked up towards the ceiling which she inspected for a few moments, gaze drifting over the underside of the tent.

Finding nothing, the ferocious goddess turned her attention to the other strand. Placing both palms on the floor she leaned out to reach the spot where the rusty powder began. Keigo stared straight up as a face that could have launched and sank a thousand ships came to loom almost right over him. He told himself to shut his eyes. Unfortunately, they did not seem to obey.

The titan continued to regard the evidence of their assault. Her eyes did not move from that spot. Had her attention strayed only a few feet to the right, she would have been looking directly at them. Instead, after a few seconds, the wrath drained out of her features, leaving them chillingly composed. Bloody eyes then slowly rose up, scanning from one side to another. And those glistening lips parted.

"**I know you are here."**

As she spoke, dozens of tentacles began to emerge from the pool and go questing about. They reached up high while others carefully combed over the floor.

"**It would have been a more plausible coincidence had you cut only one line," **the vicious spirit continued. **"Not that I would have believed. Sand falling exactly where it would do the most harm? The odds are not good. But it might have given me pause. Still, you were too concerned about who might be in danger from me, weren't you? That tells me much."**

"NO!"

Keigo tried to move his head to see where this cry came from and failed. Only his eyes rotated in their sockets, but it was enough to allow him to perceive a familiar shape standing at the unused tunnel mouth. The Hollow Lagrima regarded them, minus the harp but still holding onto that big pickle jar for dear life.

"No!" Lagrima repeated. "NO! Tia Halibel, I know you! You are… the _Tercera Espada!_ The Usurper's Worm! What are you doing here? Where…?" Her head swung frantically from side to side. _"Where is the mighty Barragan?"_

As this rant was proceeding, Kunieda Ryō whispered very softly, "Get up." She moved off them, still maintaining contact. Overhead the behemoth identified as Tia Halibel gave a twitch, like she had noticed something. Neither Hollow had taken any notice of them, yet the questing tentacles were drawing closer.

Terror choked Keigo's throat in a vice. At last he managed to croak out, "I can't."

Ryō regarded him dispassionately. For a few horrific moments he was certain she was contemplating leaving him there. Instead their reserved classmate flicked a glance at Mizuiro. "Help me carry him."

His childhood friend was staring hard at the naked deity still prowling around. Probably just as conflicted about how to react as me. But still he bent to grasp their fear-struck colleague beneath the armpits. Together they hoisted him up to hang heavy as a sack of grain between them.

Meanwhile Halibel drew herself straight to regard this fresh intruder. **"You have been worshipping false idols, little slave," **she intoned dryly. **"All the while, it has been me giving you commands, since I am the only who could assume your fallen master's place. I ****am the **_**Segunda Espada **_**now."**

"Wh… what?"

They should really escape while these monsters were distracted with one another. Apparently Kunieda had reached the same conclusion. "Don't run," she advised in a whisper. "Draws their attention." Faintly Mizuiro nodded.

The _Segunda's _lips curled with contempt. Her head rose in condemnation, and she scowled. This movement caused the three escapees to freeze.

"**Your King, Barragan Luisenbarn, is **_**dead.**_** I ate him myself following the war for Nirvana. He was quite the satisfying meal."**

A shudder went through that spare frame. Lagrima began to sink towards the floor. "Dead?" she whispered. "He is… dead?"

"**Even more so than usual."**

A scant inch from her knees touching stone, the wispy Hollow sprang up and fled from the room. Halibel watched her flight before heaving a sigh. Several of the serpent projections moved to pursue.

It was now or never. And with that they proceeded to haul Asano's unresponsive form away, feet dragging and arms dangling like wet noodles.

Only when the empty shoe dropped from his nerveless grip did Keigo even remember he was still carrying it.

The noise it made shouldn't have been that loud. Maybe everything just seemed enhanced, as the terrible head spun straight towards them. Red vines converged too fast for anyone to react. In under a second all three high-schoolers were bound in those loathsome limbs.

"**Ah. There we go."**

Her smile was awful to behold. It told Keigo he was about to be eaten alive. She would do it. That's what they did. Hollows eat people. And now I'm going to die. Semi-solid blood oozed over his bare flesh, and all he could do was whimper.

"**Humans. I thought as much," **their captor purred, her tongue sliding out over those ravenous lips. **"We were told some of you possessed unusual abilities. But this one is new. A lesser form of Complete Hypnosis? Complete Oblivious, perhaps?" **She chuckled. **"I could…"**

Suddenly the Hollow paused. Green eyes flashed, narrowing down to slits. Her head bent over them until she hovered right in front of Kunieda Ryō. The girl's face went stiff, but the rest of her was trembling so violently she looked to be vibrating. Still she did not look away as the beast continued to inspect her closely.

"**It is **_**you." **_There was a measure of wonder in its voice they had not heard before. **"You are the one with **_**my**_** taint on your soul! When did this happen? How did you come close enough to receive my blessing and survive? Who **_**are **_**you?!" **

Kunieda gasped in a long lungful of air, almost like she had forgotten to breathe for the last few seconds. When she managed to speak her words were piping faint. "I'm the Last Unicorn."

"**Eh?" **One great eyebrow rose. **"Unicorn? What are–?"**

"Excuse me," Mizuiro interrupted sweetly, "but have you considered posing for Playboy Japan? Because I think you would make a _dynamite _centerfold!"

The Hollow turned a measuring look on him as though wondering what the grinning dandy might taste like. **"What?"**

A burst of blue flame exploded against the side of Halibel's head. At the same time, this strange band of something like fog swept through the air and severed the tentacles at their source. Instantly they all turned to dust, and the next thing the astonished Keigo knew someone was dropping him to the floor several meters away.

"Hold on!" Rangiku Matsumoto declared, a pink scarf clutched in her fist. Then, "Oh _hell!"_

"**Lose something?"**

Kunieda Ryō was not with them. Instead the girl was now clutched in Halibel's blood-wet fist, who regarded them triumphantly. **"You would not abandon this poor child, eh, shinigami?"**

The fugitive death god hesitated. As she did a host of tentacles sprang from the pool to impact against a gray wall of furiously shifting particles that formed before her. More emerged, when the massive female uttered a shout.

The arm holding Ryō had turned solid from wrist to elbow. Even as Keigo registered this, a scarlet spear plowed through that frozen appendage in an explosion of ice. Kunieda fell free, the hand that held her now nothing more than a fine mist, only to disappear and reemerge on the other side of the hall in the arms of a preschooler with brown skin.

"RUN, NOBORU!"

"AND LEAVE YOU HERE? LIKE HELL!"

Rukia Kuchiki now stood in the cave wearing full shinigami gear, accompanied by a bloodstained kid with white hair holding a sword longer than he was. Her face was fierce enough to scare away anything short of Death itself. Halibel had retreated back to her pool. An absolute horde of serpents rose around her, enough to fill the chamber and rip every person there, human or spirit, to shreds. Rukia and the captain stood side by side, sweat freezing on their faces and swords extended with tips touching to form a sphere of white energy that grew bigger with every heartbeat. Their eyes glowed from concentration. Matsumoto had turned that dust cloud she was using into a large spinning disc, perhaps in an attempt to cut the monster off at the waist. The kid with the stick stood protectively over Ryō, but his lips were moving, and the air was glowing green around him.

Keigo had no idea if any of this might actually do the trick. Could even all of them together beat that thing? Still slumped in a spineless blob on his back, he found himself staring at that spreading dome over the ceiling again. Nobody else even looked up. Wouldn't make any sense to; considering what they were currently faced with, it would be suicide to look away. But lying there, probably about to die after hardly having lived at all, Keigo Asano knew with absolute certainty that he had grasped its significance.

A vibration came that made the chamber quake; pressure built in his ears so that he could hardly hear anything clearly. All those opposing spiritual powers were about to come to a head. Somebody's about to die. Probably me.

What have I got to lose?

Just as war was about to erupt, his voice tore out with all the force and desire to live that existed in a frightened desperate teenage soul.

"HIT! THE! ROOF!"

Keigo never saw what happened next. He had already passed out.

But his effort was not in vain. Noboru heard, and looking up, he spied the unusual structure that capped this cavern. Acting on instinct the brash youth fired Hanuman straight at its peak. The tent was ripped from its moorings by the overwhelming force of his blow, that never-ending battle staff carrying it up to slam into the stone ceiling and explode straight through, into the open air of Hueco Mundo beyond.

At the same time, twin bolts of blazing yellow energy roared upwards to blow away the remaining ceiling directly over Tia Halibel's head. And through it the dry desert of Hueco Mundo came pouring in.

"AAAAHHHHH!"

An inarticulate scream tore from the _vasto lorde_, filled with rage and despair so loud it blew away any and all attacks that her enemies had previously been building. This had no effect on the greatest threat, though. Swirling white cataracts poured down in a waterfall of sand directly onto the blood goddess, and what had once been a smooth liquid mass now resembled a clumping congealed mess. The reaction was worse than one might have expected. For wherever even a speck of sand touched her, the Hollow's body dissolved, sloughing away into dust and engorged silica. Halibel continued to roar, thrashing in the midst of her diminishing medium. Blood churned and swelled over the lip of the pool as though seeking escape. But there was none to be found. Sand soaked up everything, its dry touch greedily absorbing whatever fragment of the gluttonous Hollow's being could be found. It devoured her, stripping this sending of any shape and form.

The mass of bloody sand lost any recognizable semblance of humanity. It broke apart to go collapsing into the pool, further exacerbating the effect. Immediately, however, a smaller version of her emerged, one huge arm held overhead in an effort to protect Halibel from the gobbling grains. Her subservient members had vanished. The pool was nearly filled. Only this hunched and dwindling expression of the _Espada _remained.

Under the shadow of her steadily collapsing arm, Halibel's head rose. Empty eyes fastened on the figure of Tōshirō Hitsugaya who stood amazed at what was transpiring. They glowed green with malice, and from her mouth a thin ribbon of blood shot directly towards the captain's heart.

His sword came up, as did Rukia's, but before the attack covered half its distance a stream of gray ash swept in and severed it near the source. A smattering of red went sprinkling over Tōshirō's clothes, and that was all.

Her final attack thwarted, Halibel's form crumbled. The greedy sand came pouring down to fill her last remaining holdout.

"**Don't imagine this means you're safe."**

A wicked smile stretched the Hollow's melting face…

"**We are watching you, children."**

… before her features were swept away under the deluge.

More white sand continued to fall. The battle was over, however. Realizing this, a visibly exhausted Tōshirō Hitsugaya looked over to the person who had defended him at the last. "Why?"

In response Matsumoto shrugged gamely. "Force of habit, I guess." She then blew him a kiss and winked. "Toodle-oo, Taichou!"

When her arm swept up, only then did Rangiku notice something was missing.

A small snap came from behind her.

"First off, let me say thanks for saving both our lives."

She turned.

"Second," Mizuiro regarded her warmly and somewhat flirtatiously. "If I die soon, you and I should hook up for drinks."

She stared.

"And third," the boy extinguished his cigarette lighter, letting the burning pink silk scarf flutter earthwards, "I'm really sorry. Rain check on that date, because I strongly suspect you will be in ghost jail soon."

Nothing remained of her teleportation charm but a twist of ash and the lingering scent of smoke. Matsumoto regarded this with puckered lips and one raised golden eyebrow. Then she lifted her shoulders in a noticeably bouncy fashion. "I guess I deserved that." The outcast death god then turned to regard the remaining war party. "But since absolutely none of you are at your best right now, I doubt you will put up much of a contest when I decide to bolt."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Rangiku-san."

Atop a pile of sand which had once crowned this throne room, Captain Abarai Renji glared at the apostate. His shikai was released, as were those of Hirakō Shinji and Lisa Yadomaru beside him. Their combined aura now easily outclassed everyone else in the room.

"Surrender, Matsumoto," Tōshirō breathed, leaning on the pommel of his sword stuck point-first in the ground.

She looked at him, then at the other two captains and lieutenant. After a moment's hesitation, Rangiku reformed her shikai, which she gingerly eased into its sheath strapped to her back. The voluptuous minx then raised her empty hands overhead. At the same time, she cast a friendly look back at Mizuiro. "I suppose if I held you hostage to get out of here it could count as a date. But my reputation's taken enough hits for one afterlife. See you later!"

The two Vizard moved to take her into custody. Renji approached Rukia, who had slung one of Hitsugaya's arms over her shoulder to keep him upright. "You all right, Hitsugaya-taichou?"

"I'll live," he responded blearily, though he seemed barely capable of lifting his head.

"Not to sound like a whiner," Kon announced as he came up dragging Noboru by an ear, "but I could use some first aid over here." He indicated his missing arm whose bandage was visibly leaking blood.

"That was _awesome_, Kon!" His young cohort seemed in no way disturbed at being manhandled like this. He merely grinned while carrying an unconscious Ryō, a chewed-up pencil sticking out of his mouth. "I mean, you raised the roof, _amigo! _Literally! Took that bloody babe to task!"

"_Noboru!" _

He winced as Rukia's sharp voice cut through any gleeful adulation. The grey-eyed urchin shuffled his feet and looked sheepishly at his glowering aunt. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Now is not the time to mete out punishment, but rest assured yours will come in due course." Rukia lifted her chin, deep blue eyes momentarily growing unfocused. "I can no longer sense any particularly malevolent presence in this vicinity." She then gave her head a quick shake. There was a measure of both relief and trepidation to her voice when she turned to address Renji. "Captain Abarai, is there anything which has transpired you feel I should be made aware of?"

The big fighter rubbed the nape of his neck as a pained grimace worked up his face. "I'll tell you what I know for sure, but honestly, there are a lot of things that need explaining about this. Ichigo's waiting for you topside with Orihime and Nanao. He might be able to shed some light on stuff."

Rukia looked confused at that last, but any uncertainty was easily trumped by how obviously glad this news made her. With Renji's help she then supported Tōshirō towards the newly made exit. More shinigami came streaming in to aid and receive orders from their officers. The remaining humans were given over into their care. Other members proceeded to invade the underground dungeon. With that, their arduous ordeal seemed to finally be at an end.

* * *

><p>He's dead.<p>

Lagrima raced through the catacombs, following her personal escape route which she had made certain remained a secret from all, including Barragan. Barragan Luisenbarn, who was no more. The King of Hueco Mundo was dead.

Finally. He was finally _dead! _At long last… I'M FREE!

Free! FREE! HE'S DEAD! She wanted to shout the words aloud for all to hear, only didn't yet dare. There were shinigami invading this wretched burrow. But what matter? Let them have the old fool's crumbling remnants of an empire! He could never touch her again, threaten and demean her for his own perverse amusement. She lifted the oenochoe jug on high. A toast to the Almighty Barragan, who wound up being gorged upon by a sluttish sea serpent! Rot in hell, you horse-drawn skeletal fool! Laughing, Lagrima took a sip. It tasted sweet, like long-fermenting wine. Drunk on joy, she giggled uncontrollably.

Up ahead the light of the exit promised safety and freedom. This tunnel came out far removed from the main complex. No death gods or any such would think to check this distance. A new existence awaited her, freed from an endless indentured servitude and ready to begin anew. With this treasure of collected essence, who knows? She might even aim for the rank of _vasto lorde _herself. No Hollow had ever tasted her flesh, so that meant the possibility remained. A divine empress might yet rule over all!

Lagrima eagerly stepped forth into the cold clean light of _Hueco Mundo_.

The freed slave stumbled to a halt. A vast white desert stretched away into the distance marked by outcroppings of wind-blown rock. More eye-catching than this blighted scenery, though, was a small selection of _arrancar _arrayed before her, as if in preparation of Lagrima's arrival_. _She recognized Loly and Menoly among them. They made no move to attack, only watched with the restrained menace of a pack waiting to pounce. A soft sob bubbled up from her chest. No, what is this? It's not fair! Just not fair!

" 'Bout damn time," a rumbling voice grunted.

She turned around. Sitting atop the small cave entrance, Grimmjow Jeaguerjaques returned her stare, his eyes half-lidded with boredom and casual bloodlust. Why did he look grey?

"You're welcome, Grimmjow."

This new voice spoke from right in front of her. Before Lagrima could react, a blade had already opened her throat.

The jug was yanked roughly from her grasp. Gagging, she fell to the pristine sands now spattered with blood. Strangely enough, though it soaked up her life easily enough, the sands did not turn red as a result; merely a dark shade of glistening gray.

Enfain Tessima reappeared, now holding the flask containing _vasto lorde _essence. She sheathed her weapon and looked up to the leader of this hunting party.

The panther demon leapt nimbly down to join her. "Good job letting us know where she was headed."

"You're lucky I muted her senses with my _Chiaroscuro_ too," the Hollow spy stated as she held out their prize. "In your released state, even with a _sombra _any Hollow would have felt you a mile away."

"I like my prey to know it's me," he grinned, accepting the container to pop the lid. Jeaguerjaques sniffed the oily brew experimentally, giving a wrinkle of his nose. Tufted ears twitched in restlessness. At last he returned the stopper. "All right, we've got what we wanted. Let's head home."

He took point, and the pack followed, loping along to disappear among the rolling dunes. In moments their tracks were completely lost to the shifting sands.

Lagrima lay bleeding as they conversed, and continued to do so after all had left. She had no strength to move. It was impossible to tell how long she remained there, or when death might come. I never wanted to end this way, she thought. I just wanted my freedom. That's all. Was it too much to ask I be given a single day to enjoy it?

I want to live. Please, anyone… help me.

"Look! We found someone!"

"Thank goodness!"

The masked harpist felt strong arms grasp her own. Still gurgling blood, she found herself held upright by two scar-faced Hollows, one squat, the other tall and slender. Before her was a green-haired woman wearing a scandalous red outfit so bizarre it boggled the mind. All three were _arrancar._

No. It doesn't matter. Masked, unmasked, what difference does it make? As long as I can live. Whoever this is, I will gladly serve her.

"I'm so happy to meet you, whoever you are," the ibex-skulled Hollow stated with a smile. She looked between her two subordinates, belled cap jingling joyfully. "So happy! I can finally _eat!"_

Neliel tu Odelschvank's mouth opened wide. This proved to be the last thing Lagrima ever saw.

_To be continued…_


End file.
